 | THOUGHT FOR THE MONTH.... |
WORLD DAY OF PRAYER – 2012 – 2nd March at All Saints, Drimoleague
18:1 Then Jesus told them a parable to show them they should always pray and not lose heart. 2 He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor respected people. 3 There was also a widow in that city who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Give me justice against my adversary.’ 4 For a while he refused, but later on he said to himself, ‘Though I neither fear God nor have regard for people, 5 yet because this widow keeps on bothering me, I will give her justice, or in the end she will wear me out by her unending pleas.’” 6 And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unrighteous judge says! 7 Won’t God give justice to his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he delay long to help them? 8 I tell you, he will give them justice speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
There was once a six year old boy called Bobby who asked his father if he could have a pet dog. ‘I’m afraid not,’ said his father, ‘but what about something even better. If you pray really hard, in a little while, perhaps God will send you a little baby brother or sister.’ Bobby prayed very hard and very faithfully every night – but after a month nothing had arrived and he gave up praying. However, when another month went by, sure enough, there was a new addition to his family. But imagine Bobby’s surprise when his father drew back the covers of the cot to reveal not one little baby boy, but two. ‘Aren’t you glad you prayed for a little baby brother,’ asked his Father. ‘Oh yes,’ said Bobby, ‘but aren’t you glad I stopped praying when I did?’
Sometimes prayer is not always what we think it is – and often it doesn’t work in the way we think it does. Here are the first words of our gospel reading
‘Jesus told them a parable to show them they should always pray and not lose heart.’ It’s good to know that Jesus understood that it’s really hard, sometimes, to pray and pray and pray – and to NOT lose heart. He lived among a people who must’ve wondered when God was going to answer their prayer for justice against their Roman occupiers. And it’s hard to know how the people listening to him would’ve understood Jesus when he said: ‘Won’t God give justice to his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he delay long to help them? I tell you, he will give them justice speedily.’
When would the poor and the dispossessed, listening to this story, receive the means to live comfortably? When would the women and the disabled receive the same respect and status as men in their society? When would the Jews themselves be delivered from Roman occupation? If God’s justice was speedy, what were they waiting for? Maybe you, too, have prayed and prayed for something – maybe for the health and well-being of a loved one for example; maybe you’ve prayed unselfishly and faithfully and the response you wanted didn’t come. And maybe you’ve asked ‘why?’ I want to say straight off, I don’t know the answer to that question. I suspect that the final words of Jesus in this story probably hold the key to that; when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?
But it’s too neat to say that God can or will only answer the believing or faithful prayer; that we don’t get because we don’t pray with real faith or enough faith. This makes God sound like some kind of divine vending machine; if we press the right buttons, in the right order, use the right currency, we get the thing we request. People who have this attitude that only the Christian who’s full of great faith and prays according to some kind of infallible scriptural formula gets her prayers answered - I think they forget that prayer is more than just a way of getting God to do what we want. Our whole relationship with God is about working with him to achieve HIS will on earth, after all.
The parable of the judge and the widow, also, naturally makes us think of justice. One of my uncles used to be a newspaper reporter. He spent a lot of time in various courts reporting on the cases and crimes; and he once told me that the courts existed in order to dispense the law – not justice. The two were not to be confused, he would say. In our parable, it seems the whole establishment is against the woman. She is a widow to begin with. In a society run by and for the benefit of men, it seems she had no man to protect her and look to her interests. Then, the judge is a man who has respect neither for his religion nor his fellow humans; he’s unlikely to care very much at all for the situation of this widow. It also appears that she has right on her side, because the judge gives in to her saying, ‘I will give her justice’.
But she has one thing on her side. She doesn’t give up. If you’ve been a mum at Christmas with youngsters pleading and begging for toys and games as they watch the adverts on TV, you’ll know that pester-power – as it’s called – can be pretty powerful. And the judge gives in to the widow’s request because he’s fed up with her hounding him. Just to get rid of the nuisance alone, he’ll do the right thing. And Jesus’ adds that if even a bad judge knows how to do the right thing eventually, surely God the good judge of humankind will be all the more ready and willing to do what is good for his people.
What mystifies and disappoints us, however, is our own difficulty in knowing always, what is good for us, for others, for our world. Or knowing how to interpret the response of God to our requests.
The story is told of a desperate old sinner who died and moved on to the after-life. He was very worried about his reception because he had lived very selfishly, so he was in some fear and trepidation when he was met by an angelic figure and escorted down a long corridor, past a number of rooms. In one room, the sinner spotted an old friend of his – a complete reprobate who drank and swore his whole life, till he had died at the age of 85, completely wrecked by his sins. And on the decrepit old man’s knee sat a pretty young girl, feeding him grapes and massaging his forehead. On seeing this, the new arrival perked up and said to the angel: ‘well, that’s a relief. I take it this must be heaven; for I see an old friend of mine there, who was every bit as much of a rogue as I was. And it can only be heaven if that beautiful young woman is to be his reward.’ The angel shook his head and replied: ‘Well, no, actually this is hell. And HE is HER punishment.’
It’s a joke, sure, but maybe it is true that sometimes we can’t see the right way of our circumstances, because it’s been hard to tune into what God has willed in a particular situation. We’ve all prayed and persevered with God for something good to happen; and I’m sure we’ve all asked ourselves the question – ‘why wouldn’t God do this good thing, or avoid that bad or tragic outcome? We prayed as we are told to and we prayed sincerely and faithfully. Why hasn’t justice for our cause come speedily, as Jesus said it should?’
I’m trying to avoid the neat, pat answers such as: God’s timing is different from our timing; God’s ways are not our ways, his thoughts not our thoughts – and so on. Though these things are no doubt mixed in with our experience of God and prayer. But the context of this parable is also very important. Immediately prior to telling this story Jesus was talking about the coming of the Kingdom of God – he reminded the people of the flood back in the days of Noah and God’s judgement on the earth; also God’s judgement on the city of Sodom. And he has been warning his listeners that they don’t know when their own time of judgement is likely to come, when the Son of Man returns to the earth.
So to my mind this makes more sense of a parable about right judgement and about persevering in praying to God for justice to prevail. We still don’t know the time-scale for God’s justice – but we do know that he wants things on earth to be as they are in heaven through the words and prayers and actions of his people. And we know that as Christ promised, he will be the good judge of all the earth. Through his Holy Spirit he gives us the ability to know what he wishes for the world; and this is what we should persevere in; nagging away, if you like, at injustice and corruption and wrongdoing like the persistent widow. Never giving up in pursuing what we know to be right, even if – like the widow – the odds are against us every time.
For our World Day of Prayer challenge, it’s good to ask ourselves what would be those things we would want to keep pushing for? Human rights for those who are made weak and powerless by their societies; for example, countries where women are not permitted to drive, live independently, or share the same educational or job prospects as men. Or justice in the sharing of resources such as clean water, and better agricultural methods and fair trade for poorer nations. Or justice for causes closer to home: what with all the austerity measures in Ireland, we’re so conscious of how important – and now how vulnerable – our small rural schools are; or the struggle to keep our home-care services going, our community hospitals going. These are issues of justice relevant to us, in our own time and location. The justice due to our own people in a time when some wealthy executives and bankers have acted irresponsibly and gotten off pretty lightly; but the ordinary people have paid the penalty with their homes, their jobs, sometimes even their relationships.
The Occupy movement in London and Dublin, in cities all over the world, where protestors have created little villages of tents are controversial, yes, but they are also a physical reminder that there is a strong public sense of injustice about the kind of financial chicanery we’ve had to put up with in recent years. And closer to home, the Vita Cortex sit-in of the staff who have been bilked out of their redundancy is, in my view, certainly an issue of justice, for people who would otherwise just be brushed under the carpet and ignored.
Jesus’s parable makes it clear what we should do. Persevere, persist, nag, badger – whatever it takes. But wherever we focus ourselves and our efforts we are to always pray and not lose heart. May God grant us that strength and patience, and that faithfulness we all need to do what we can to bring the justice of God into our own lives and the lives of others who need it so much. So that when the Judge of the world does what is right, we know we have done our part.
3rd Before Advent: The Parable of the Wise and Foolish Bridesmaids. Matthew 25:1-13
'sometimes it is just too late'
A woman comes home, and as is her custom, she checks her telephone messages. The automated system intones: ‘Message one’ – and then there follows the voice of her husband, Brian. There is something about his tone that makes her catch her breath before he’s said the first three words: ‘Listen, I’m on an airplane that’s been hijacked,’ he says, ‘I just want you to know I absolutely love you. I want you to do good, go have a good time. Same to my parents and everybody. I totally love you.’
He is a passenger on United Flight 175, the date is the 11th of September 2001; and minutes after Brian Sweeney had left that message for his wife, Julie, his plane had crashed into the South Tower of the World Trade Centre in New York.
There were thousands of messages like this left during that dreadful event. When the people trapped within the buildings or the airplanes knew that they were almost certainly going to die, the first thing they did was to contact their loved ones and say the most important thing they could think of before it was too late to say anything.
In the same way, emergency service workers who have to attend the sites of airplane crashes will often say that a feature of dealing with the victims and their belongings is finding notes that were written hastily, in the last few moments of life, to loved ones; again saying those things that were more important than anything else, before it was too late. Before the moment to say anything at all was gone for ever.
Jesus’ parable about the ten bridesmaids is partly based on the idea that sometimes it is just too late. There’s a big spiritual idea behind his story – the idea that the servants of God are to be always prepared for service. All ten bridesmaids are caught in exactly the same situation; the bridegroom is delayed in coming to the house of his bride to collect her, and all their lamps are low in oil. In fact, they all go to sleep because he’s so late. But only five of the girls have had the foresight or wisdom to bring extra oil, in case of emergencies. But for the others who haven’t been prepared for this, it is too late. Too late to get more oil, to late to light the way for the bride and groom, too late to enjoy the celebration. Too late.
That’s the aspect of this story I want to dwell on. And not really in the spiritual way; I have no idea if it is ever too late with God with regard to the opportunities we may be given to know him better. But in our ordinary human lives we should remember that whether we make the best of things or not, is often up to us.
I checked out a website the other day, of a woman who had worked in palliative care – that’s the care of the terminally ill and dying – and she was struck by the nature of the stories they told; how so many of these stories were so similar. For example, when it came to regrets she listed some which always cropped up.
1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.
It is very important to try and honour at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it.
2. I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.
This came from every male patient that she nursed. They missed their children's youth and their partner's companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men she nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.
By creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your family’s lifestyle. If it’s a choice between making more and more money or acquiring an increasingly wealthy lifestyle, the question for you is: will that truly compensate me for the increased loss of companionship and family time that can never be relived?
3. I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.
Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence – or one always simmering with unexpressed tension; and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.
We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends and family
Often they would not truly realise the full benefits of old friends and family until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let relationships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. And many regretted family feuds and fallouts, which had seemed so important at the time; but now in the light of serious illness seemed so unnecessary. A loose end that should’ve been tied as a matter of urgency.
It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip, or family connection drift or even divide. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.
This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called 'comfort' of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to themselves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh more, have more spontaneity in their lives, experience the excitement of the occasional risk; actually working towards making things change for the better and enjoying it.
Coming to the end of life, what others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to reflect at any time of your life that you have lived life – are living your life - with integrity, a sense of adventure and enjoyment. And not in denial of new experiences because of fear or worry about offending others.
The message is clear: we have it within our grasp now to make changes, to make a difference, to at least aim for fewer regrets, so far as our earthly lives are concerned. Do something now before it is too late!
Sunday Sermon for fourth Sunday after TRINITY: 17th July 2011. Matthew 13 The Parable of the Wheat and the Tares.
Last week we had the parable of the sower - throwing the grain all over the place - on paths, on stoney ground, where the weeds grew, and what kind of crop was raised. And that was about how we respond to the word of God that is sown in our hearts. This week today’s gospel story is very different, even though it’s still about the sowing of good plants and weeds. In this story, the good plants and the weeds both grow up together; and are then finally harvested. The wheat goes to make life-sustaining food, and the tares are thrown into the fire and destroyed. So at first glance what we’ve got here is a parable about judgement. The last judgement itself, where God rewards the good person, but sends the bad person to his or her destruction. But there are also one or two other things to note about this parable.
To begin with, why the reluctance of the landowner to let his workers weed the fields? The tares referred to in the parable were a kind of weed called darnel - a type of bearded grass. And it was assumed that because a bearded grass and the wheat plant were in some ways similar in appearance, it would’ve been quite a long and labour-intensive task for the workers in the fields to separate out all the tares and get rid of them, while they were still growing. In fact, damage would’ve been done to the good crop as the roots of both plants would’ve been tangled up together - and you couldn’t pull up the weeds without ruining the wheat. So the landowner tells them to wait until the harvest is ready.
So with the best will in the world, it seems that the workers are not to be trusted to do the job of the weeding out. They might mistake a good plant for a bad; and even if they don’t make that mistake, they might still cause damage to the good plant anyway, in rooting out the weed. As this is a parable about judgement, the message here is: it is God’s judgement we must trust, not our own. Vengeance is mine, says the Lord, in another part of scripture. And this is good advice. There’s an old saying that goes: We judge ourselves by our motives and others by their actions. In other words, if I make a mistake while genuinelly trying to do the best I can, I can easily forgive myself because my motivation was pure; but I’m quick to condemn the mistake of another person because I’m not willing to credit them with the same pure motivation, by which I excused myself.
So the point being made here is that we are often not to trust ourselves when it comes to making judgements about who does and who doesn’t belong to God’s kingdom. That’s for God himself to decide.
Now something that’s worth pointing out here is that this story isn’t an excuse for society to let evil people, or those who are careless about the welfare of others, do just what they want, without any consequences. Those who use crime, who are a danger to our communites, should be judged according to the law of the land and punished accordingly. Just because we are warned off making judgements about how God disposes of the souls of mankind, doesn’t mean we aren’t to do the right thing and guard ourselves against wrongdoers and criminals. It’s irresponsible and stupid not to pursue criminals and convict them in order to protect innocent people from their actions. But that’s not what this parable is talking about.
What Jesus is talking about here is that final say-so; who are the people God accepts as his own, and who are those who have worked against him. And that is something that religious people will never agree over.
Think of the hardline Muslims or Christians, who believe absolutely that unless you believe in God the way they do, there is no way you can call yourself either a Muslim or a Christian. Or even that you’re fair game to be killed. That is why Muslims have been killing other Muslims - and Christians killing other Christians - for centuries past. And of course that is why different religions of all kinds oppose each other and persecute each other. Once upon a time the Jews in Europe were forced to be baptized into the Christian church because it was thought that this would be saving their souls. During the Crusdades both Christians and Muslims used to force their enemies to change their faith in order to save their lives. Both sides claiming that loyalty to God was the reason for their violence. And in a country where the phrase ‘taking the soup’ still has its echoes from history, we know in our own history - North and South - the great damage that imagined superiority of religion can cause.
And yet, the biggest irony of all, these things actually work violently against the will of God. All these actions are the tares, the weeds in God’s field. Jesus called us, his fellow human beings, to be forgiving, to treat other people in the way that we wish to be treated. But instead our tendancy, in the human race, is to think that our viewpoint is the best one, our wisdom is the greater, our traditions better than any other. We actually leave God out of our judgement altogether, even when we claim that it’s God we’re standing up for.
Maybe there are questions we need to ask, when we find ourselves in situations where good judgement is required.When we find ourselves in conflict with family members, work colleagues, friends and other acquaintances what’s the first thing we do? Naturally, we justify ourselves, not just by defending our own position, but by attacking the position of our opponent. But do we bring our conflict to God? Do we pray for God to be part of that situation? Ask him to give us insight into how to solve our difficulties? And just as importantly, pray for the people we’re having the conflict with? Life is always going to bring us up against other people; even the people we have a duty to love and care for. How can we expect the best possible outcome with a problem when we don’t involve God in the solution?
This is why prayer has got to be one of the first things we do when we need wisdom in our judgement of a situation involving others who may have hurt us, or where we might be required to be the peace-maker. The parable of the wheat and the tares reminds us to be humble and realistic when it comes to making judgements about others. As another saying goes: In judging others, many of us will work overtime without pay. So it also reminds us that judgement is a two-way street.
And our heavenly Father who forgives us our sins, watches us to see how we respond to his example. We pray now to ask for more of his wisdom in our own lives. LUP. Lord God, sometimes we are all too keen to judge others harshly. Whether we are right or wrong, give us the grace to look inside our own hearts and motives, so that we are careful not to be unjust, where you who have forgiven us so many sins, are careful to be kind and loving to us. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.
LENT: the Christian MOT? (or NCT, here in the Republic of Ireland!)
Lent is a useful and practical time for Christians. It’s the MOT of the Christian year, where we have an opportunity to check out where we are with God; what needs to be, spiritually speaking, cleaned up, cleared out, topped up, and replaced - to make sure we are able to function properly and healthily as God’s children and servants in a tough environment, full of life’s curves and rough roads. I don’t mean to make it sound so mechanistic; but we all know what happens when we ignore the danger signs a car gives, whether it’s lack of anti-freeze in the water, worn-out tyres, or just that ‘strange rattle in the engine’ every now and then. Some day, we’ll end up on the side of the road, broken down, unable to go any further, frustrated and fed-up. Lent, with its traditional emphasis on reflection, examination of our ‘inner’ life, and searching to know ourselves and God better, is a good time to get sorted with God.
In the run-up to Lent there was opportunity to attend a study course on the book of Philippians. That, in its way, is a form of searching and questioning that could be useful and informative. Church communities - as well as individuals - need to address issues and important subjects together as a community, if they are to form a common mind on their mission in the world. But the whole of the period of Lent can be a journey of search and discovery as we take an honest and careful look at our prayer lives, or our relationships with others, and our attitudes. Substitute ‘lack of love’ for ‘lack of anti-freeze’, or ‘worn-out faith’ for ‘worn tyres’ and we can see why it is easy to allow ourselves to run down, becoming frustrated and fed-up with life’s difficulties. And that ‘strange rattle in the engine’ might be anything from a stunted and blocked relationship where God is aching to act as healer and reconciler, to an uncomfortable niggle about unaddressed issues; sometimes quite small things, in themselves, which build up over time and lead to bigger and more serious problems. Being honest, it is more than likely that as individuals and as a particular Christian community we are already aware of areas that need to be submitted to God for healing and reconciliation. In our church and personal lives, can you think of such areas? Lent is the MOT of the Christian year, so let’s not put that important work off.
The Christian MOT takes some courage on our part. It takes honesty and humility, and a willingness to be challenged, and accept responsibility for those things about ourselves which we know God wishes to chasten, change or improve. It’s a serious business; but not without its own joys and satisfactions. Jesus promised his friends that he would send his Spirit to strengthen them, after he left them. In that way, he promised to be with them always, so that nothing they did in his Name, was ever done without his help and enabling.
That is the encouraging word that we can take with us into Lent. After all, the point of the MOT is to help the car achieve it’s ultimate performance and potential; and God, as chief mechanic, is by our side, ensuring that no vehicle committed to his care is permitted to ‘fail’ its test!
Willi Nesbitt - Rector
'Come ye thankful people, come....' (September/October 2010)
There will have been a lot of singing these words above in recent weeks. This year, compared to last year, West Cork has had a successful harvest, with plenty of fair weather and long hours of daylight in which to reap and bale the silage. Plenty of feed has been put by against the winter and the hard work of bringing the harvest 'home' has not been made any harder by adverse weather. For the first time in several years the seasons of the years have not been reduced to one endless indistinguishable season of cool, wet constancy of rain and cloud. So we could claim that we have some particular things to give thanks to God for this time round.
More objective observers, however, may ask 'well, why give thanks to God, when things are good, and not give him the "credit" for the rotten years, too!' Why should God take the plaudits for all the good stuff?
Firstly, isn't it the farmers and agricultural workers and scientists who ensure good harvests despite the odds?
Secondly, if God gets the glory, why not the pointing of the accusing finger for not answering prayers or performing well?
I find it hard to answer this kind of simple and obvious question with an equally simple and obvious reply. In the Christian faith we believe all good comes from God; that he is the source of all that motivates and generates goodness of every kind. Some would even suggest that this need not be restricted to a moral or wilful goodness either; what is good in nature, what is naturally productive and expressive of successful living in the natural world could be seen as an expression of God's nature. But if this is so then what can we do with nature when it produces 'evil' results; failed harvests, deadly weather systems and so on. Some Christian scientists have argued that these things - while not 'good' for those lesser creatures who get in the way of such natural phenomena - are still part and parcel of the Creator's creation as we experience it now; that what we perceive as the inevitable downside of wonderful nature is the other side of the same coin which offers us abundance, progress and beauty. Therefore, goes the argument, it is part of our human nature to learn, appreciate and apply our understanding to both the good and the bad; using our God-given image to do so.
Perhaps this creates in us a meaning more profound than simply looking out for ourselves, or our own immediate little world. Perhaps this give us the opportunities our significantly flawed selfish human nature needs to grow, mature and relate to the God who loves us. We know how we take good things for granted; we all know the cliches about not missing a thing until it's gone. So maybe our experience of bad harvests and difficult times is an important way of learning our place in God's scheme of nature and the creatures who live with it. I don't mean that God inflicts individual punishments or national chastisements just so some people may, perhaps, learn something new or positive about themselves or about him. This seems to me a barbaric unenlightened view of God's nature - so far as we can ever know it!
But til the fulfilment of the new heaven and the new earth, which John the Divine foresaw in his vision in Revelation, we have the current paradoxical experience of life on this earth in which to develop as human beings, as fellow creatures with everything else we share this world with, and with our Creator. With this in mind, then, it is not just right but even necessary that we should remember to be a 'thankful people', at all times and in all places.
Willi Nesbitt
'A Monkey, a Cat, and an Honest Man.....' (July/August 2010)
The words above may seem like the title of some kind of parable or one of Aesop's Fables, and maybe in a way it is. Unless you're fairly familiar with the island of Iona, in the Scottish Hebrides, the connection between a monkey, a cat and an 'honest man' will not be obvious! Iona is the tiny island off the Isle of Mull established as a Christian community, during the sixth century, by Saint Columba. Saint though he may have been, he managed to make his native land, Ireland, too hot for him and was compelled to sail off in his coracle for the Hebridean Isles. According to legend, he had to land on an island from which the coastland of Ireland could not be seen, and Iona filled the criteria. Legend also has it that to prevent him from being tempted to leave, he buried his boat on the beach where he landed - a variation on burning bridges, I suppose!
The message is clear, however; the past had well and truly been consigned to the region of 'no return' and Columba's commitment to life on his little island was complete. So where does the monkey and the cat come into it? The years following Columba's residence saw the building of a Benedictine monastery and, still visible in the present Abbey building, are two stones from this period; one carved with the figure of a monkey and another with a cat. They represented the two ideals of monastery life, the busyness and activity of the monkey, and the repose and serenity of the cat.
And the 'honest man'? Supporters of the Labour Party in the United Kingdom will know that a former leader and committed Christian, John Smith ("the best prime-minister we never had"), was buried in the island's graveyard, after his death in 1994. His tombstone, a large plain dark stone tablet, is engraved with these moving words: "Here lies the body of an honest man: the noblest work of God." So all these apparently disparate elements - a monkey, a cat, Celtic and Benedictine spirituality, 20th century politics and Christian witness - are pulled together on one tiny and remarkable island less than 3.5 miles long and one mile wide. And there are so many lessons to be drawn from simply sitting quietly and absorbing the atmosphere in that holy place.
The lesson of Columba; burying the boats of damaging memories, placing an unhelpful and destructive past into context and setting one's face firmly to the future and the life ahead. The lesson of the monkey and the cat; learning the art of how to be both usefully busy and creatively at peace, and developing the discernment to know when to be either one thing or the other. And, finally, the lesson of the epitaph; that the height of God's creation lies in the truth of what a human being is when he or she has lived up to God's will for their life. Through the power of God's Spirit we all have within us the potential to become "the noblest work of God."
Willi Nesbitt
