I Am Not Carrying Coals to Newcastle

I find it somewhat ironic that my exploration of Celtic Christianity begins in Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  New Castle, Pennsylvania, my hometown, was named after Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  

The phrase "carrying coals to Newcastle" has always fascinated me.  I have heard it used ever since I was a little boy, perhaps because of where I grew up.  It means doing something unnecessary or superfluous.  After all, why would you carry coal to an area known for its coal mining?  That may be why my town of origin got its name.  Anthracite coal (hard coal) was deep-mined in Eastern Pennsylvania.  Bituminous coal (soft coal) was surface and strip mined in Western Pennsylvania.  The coal was used for the making of coke that was then used in the production of iron and steel.

Tomorrow the adventure begins...or rather, continues.

My plane leaves from Richmond International Airport at 12:15.  It flies to New York, then to Amsterdam, then to Newcastle, arriving at 8:00 AM on Saturday, June 1st.  

Monday I will take British Rail to Berwick-upon-Tweed so that I can (hopefully) catch the shuttle bus to Lindisfarne Island before the tide comes in and covers the causeway. 

The next post will come from the other side of the pond.

  An Evening at the Beach with St. Columba


Perhaps I need to go through withdrawal before I can actually sleep in.  It's a humorous thought...I need to work harder at resting!

The Celtic Daily Prayer for today, May 28th, 2013.  The meditation for the day really spoke to me.  It is from Anne Morrow Lindbergh's A Gift from the Sea:

It is not the desert island, nor the stony wilderness, that cuts you off from the people you love: it is the wilderness in the mind, the desert wastes in the heart through which one wanders lost---a stranger to oneself and estranged from others too.  If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others.  How often in a large city, shaking hands with my friends, I have felt the wilderness stretching between us.  Both of us were wandering in arid wastes, having lost the springs that nourished us, or having found them dry.  Only when one is connected to one's core is one connected to others, I am beginning to discover.  And for me the core, the inner spring, can be be refound through solitude.



I spent the afternoon with Adomnan's The Life of St. Columba.  St. Columba was the founder of the Iona Abbey and numerous other monasteries in Ireland and Pictland.  The Book of Kells was likely produced on Iona.  It was also the springboard that launched the Lindisfarne Abbey on the island off the coast of England, the place where I will spend next week in retreat at The Open Gate Community
( http://www.lindisfarne.org.uk/theopengate/)

Sabbatical Journey Begins

I begin my sabbatical journey on May 26th, the feast day of Saint Bede.  Presbyterians do not observe feast days of the saints.  We do not venerate individual saints.  However, I understand that Louisiana Presbyterians were quite excited when the Saints beat the Colts in Superbowl LXIV.  

Seriously, aside from an occasional Saint Andrew's Day service, saints hardly ever get a mention in the Reformed Church.  What are we missing?

I really like what Kate Tristram writes in the Celtic Daily Prayer book I am using for personal devotional time.  

We are not to imitate the departed saints---they are unlikely to be of our own personality or temperament so it would not be appropriate.  We should not ask: 'What can I learn and imitate?'  No, instead we should ask: 'What can I learn about God?'  The life of a saint is not the life of a great man or woman, but of God's life in an ordinary man or woman.  Saints' days are not all about that saint: but about a celebration of Christ.

Since so many saints are depicted in stained glass windows, perhaps the best definition of a saint is the one offered by a little boy who said, "A saint is someone through whom the light shines."  That would certainly be the case for Saint Bede.  The Venerable Bede is best known for his History of the English Church and People.  He is known as "The Father of English History."  Because of Bede, we have a better understanding of life in England, in the monastery, and in the church of the eighth century.

On a more personal note, tonight is somewhat bittersweet.  

The congregation I serve held a Service of Parting and Blessing for the Sabbatical Journey this afternoon. I deeply appreciate the guidance, counsel, and participation of my Sabbatical Advisory Committee:  Clerk of Session, Wynne Beale, Elder Jim Coling, Elder Ken James, Dr. Dennis Koziol, and Elder Steve Raptis.  Together they helped guide my grant proposal to the Lilly Endowment and provided encouragement, critique, and constant affirmation.

Following the Service of Parting and Blessing for the Sabbatical Journey, there was a wonderful heavy appetizer reception. It was a time to reconnect with the congregation one last time before we part for three months of sabbatical.

After thirty-four years of full-time ministry, I embark upon my first sabbatical.  Frankly, I am not sure what to do.  Perhaps it would be better said, "I'm not sure how to be."  I temporarily leave people I love, a vocation that continues to challenge and humble me, and the daily routines and habits of leading a congregation in ministry and service.

Today I step aside.  Today sabbatical begins.  I leave for the Holy Island of Lindisfarne in Northumberland, England on Friday.  

Tonight, I leave you with some of my favorite words from J.R.R. Tolkein's The Lord of the Rings.

All that is gold does not glitter.
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

I am off to awaken the fire and renew the blade.

Doug