“Peace I give to you, My peace I leave with you”  Jesus

“Iona is a place of peace”

What is deep peace?  How would you define it? 

Where have you experienced deep peace?  What was it like?  Where were you at?

Certainly each of us can recall one time or place where we have been enveloped, engulfed in a sense of well-being so deep that it saturated our souls.

I experienced that most profoundly during the ten weeks I spent living at the Island of Iona, Scotland in 2015.  My life had been more turbulent than the waters of the north sea, darker than the dark hues that colored it, and more disruptive than the waves that crashed onto the rocky beaches.  I desperately needed peace, and Iona provided it.

It’s a bit ironic, as St. Columba, who arrived on the shores of Iona in 561 with a few disciples, was escaping from a serious conflict in Ireland. There are various versions of the story, but his life was in danger and he was seeking peace.  Since then the little island has been a mecca for pilgrims seeking the same. For centuries people have journeyed to Iona, some seeking miracles, some seeking God, most everyone longing for peace. 

George McCleod, the founder of the Iona Community, was one of those people.  Having experience the brutality and barbarism of WWI, he was also seeking a place of peace.   But he was seeking it not only for himself, but for others; for the world.  So when he rebuilt the old Abbey which had been neglected for centuries, he did so with the intent of establishing a place that would serve as a beacon for the world, shining the light of God’s peace. 

Indeed, both the island of Iona and the community established there provides such peace. With the first step onto the island one is embraced by God.  Try to recall what it was like as a child being held by your mother or father.  Or imagine for a moment what it is like to be comforted by the embrace of a loved one.  That is what it’s like at Iona.  The sound of the waves rhythmically reaching out to the shore; the sight of the small, sleepy seaside village; the absence of traffic and urban noise; the silent ruins of the nunnery with the secret garden within; the simplicity of St. Orans chapel and the serenity of the small ancient cemetery that harbors the bodies, but not the souls, of the saints long-since past; St. John’s Celtic cross standing like a sentinel standing guard to the entrance of the ancient Abbey. Ahh, the Abbey. A magnificent structure that extends a warm invitation to enter through the large doors which serve as a portal into a the presence of God, a sacred space that emits much more, but nothing less, than pure and perfect peace.  Wherever one goes on the island, whether it be in the Abbey or on the north shore or at St. Columba’s bay or on the machair or the hermit’s cell or on top of the small mountain named Dun I, or on one of the many beaches that encircle the island,  the sense of peace is overwhelming.  Like the Celtic knot, so too God’s peace forms a pattern of peace that is woven deeply into this island, and is easily transferred to one’s soul.

When I am in need of peace, and I often-times am, I find myself travelling back to that place in my mind and heart and soul.

So where is that place of peace for you, dear friend?

What is it like for you to go there when you are in need of peace?

How does the Spirit of God indwell you in that place in order to bring you the deep peace with is so needed?

I will conclude with A Celtic Blessing on Peace:

Deep peace of the running waves to you;

Deep peace of the flowing air to you;

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you;

Deep peace of the shining starts to you;

Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.