I uploaded this prayer on Facebook a couple of days ago. It is one that I have found comforting during this challenging time. Because of its popularity I decided to repost it here with a photo added – enjoy.
Here is the liturgy for the second session of the Celtic retreat. This was written by Ryan Marsh of Church of the Beloved. You might also like to check out the reflections that have already been written by participants following the retreat. Pinholes and Paradigms by Lisa San Martin and Where is Freedom and The Shout by Gil George.
Evening Gathering – Eucharist
Opening Responses
ONE: Peace on each one who comes in need
Peace on each one who comes in joy
TWO: Peace on each who offers prayers
Peace on each who offers song
THREE: Peace of the Maker, Peace of the Son
Peace of the Spirit, the Triune One
Song : Come Thou Fount
A New Song : Psalm 98
ONE: O sing to the Lord a new song,
for he has done marvelous things.
His right hand and his holy arm
have gotten him victory.
TWO: The Lord has made known his victory;
he has revealed his vindication in the sight of the nations.
He has remembered his steadfast love and faithfulness
to the house of Israel.
THREE: All the ends of the earth have seen
the victory of our God.
Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth;
break forth into joyous song and sing praises.
ONE: Sing praises to the Lord with the lyre,
with the lyre and the sound of melody.
With trumpets and the sound of the horn
make a joyful noise before the King, the Lord.
TWO: Let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
the world and those who live in it.
Let the floods clap their hands;
let the hills sing together for joy
THREE: Sing in the presence of the Lord, for he is coming
to judge the earth.
He will judge the world with righteousness,
and the peoples with equity.
Set Sail: St. Brendan Meditation
ONE: St Brendan the Navigator set sail with a group of Monks from the Dingle peninsula in a small boat called a currach in search of the Isle of the Blessed. There are many spectacular myths and legends that surround their voyage. They are said to have visited the northern Isles of Scotland, the Faeroe islands, Iceland and eventually Newfoundland. Many years later they returned home with flora and fauna that was neither Irish, nor European. What we know for certain is that they drifted free at the mercy of the wind and the whim of the waves, in the will of God.
TWO: Picture yourself in the place of Brendan… staring across the ocean toward the horizon, the edge of your known world, into the unknown. Maybe there are distant lands across the sea, maybe there is nothing, only God knows! See yourself standing at the wooden jetty, in front of you a feeble looking boat, made of unseasoned wood and leather, smeared in animal grease to seal it from the waves. In the bottom of the craft there lies a roll of leather, there to patch the unavoidable leaks and tears. The boat continuously slams into the jetty bruising the leather as the swell of the great western ocean throws it around. Who knows, maybe the waves themselves are returning from those far off shores, shores which at this time are simply a glimpse of the possible, a dream of what might be out there beyond the horizon.
Deep inside you hear a call that says – “SET SAIL”,
THREE: A secret voice heard only in your heart, “SET SAIL INTO THE UNKNOWN”,
TWO: A stirring on the edge of the wind “SET SAIL INTO THE UNKNOWN, STEP OFF THE EDGE OF YOUR WORLD”,
ONE: An echo of stones dragged along the beach by the tide “SET SAIL INTO THE UNKNOWN, STEP OFF THE EDGE OF YOUR WORLD, COME WITH ME INTO MINE”
TWO: What are the moorings in your life? Not the things that frustrate you, but the things you hold on to. The comforts which you cling to, the insecurities which cloud your willingness to go into the unknown… to SET SAIL.
THREE: What are your dreams, the dreams which seem far too distant and unreachable. What are the visions you have that feel beyond your grasp, too vast? What are the big ideas which leave you stumped, no idea of how to even start. Strain for them, reach for them, go for them… SET SAIL.
TWO: What does it feel like to truly abandon the shore? To leave behind Models and Strategies, to ignore the speculation of Maps and Guides, to cut oneself adrift from techniques and practices, to place yourself beyond the horizon, no turning back? No clutching to tried and tested solutions or the words of experts, to put yourself solely in the hands of God… to SET SAIL.
ONE: Brendan put himself at the mercy of the wind, at the whim of the waves in the will of God. What would it mean to drift in the Missio Dei, the mission of God? What would it mean to go beyond the horizon of your own knowledge, experience and ideas, to put your faith in the beckoning Christ… what would it mean for you to really SET SAIL?
St. Brendan’s Prayer
TWO: Brendan left us with the prayer he prayed before setting sail. It’s a glimpse into the heart of faith.
Together, let us pray the prayer of St. Brendan,
Shall I abandon, O King of mysteries, the soft comforts of home?
Shall I turn my back on my native land,
and turn my face towards the sea?
Shall I put myself wholly at your mercy,
without silver or horse, without fame or honor?
Shall I throw myself wholly upon You,
without sword and shield,
without food and drink,
without a bed to lie on?
Shall I say farewell to my beautiful land, placing myself under Your yoke?
Shall I pour out my heart to You,
confessing my manifold sins and begging forgiveness,
tears streaming down my cheeks?
Shall I leave the prints of my knees on the sandy beach,
a record of my final prayer in my native land?
Shall I then suffer every kind of wound that the sea can inflict?
Shall I take my tiny boat across the wide sparkling ocean?
O King of the Glorious Heaven,
shall I go of my own choice upon the sea?
O Christ, will You help me on the wild waves?
Dressing the Altar
THREE: We are ready to set sail. This morning we placed objects on the altar as symbols of that setting sail. But the day has taught us new things, given us new companions, stirred within us a new sense of the journey God calls us to. What are the new things you take with you today as preparation for the journey ahead? (Time to share – kids first, then youth, then adults)
Chant : All Things New
Eucharist
RYAN: The Lord be with you
And also with you
RYAN: Lift up your hearts
We lift them up to the Lord
RYAN: Let us give thanks to the Lord our God
It is right to give God thanks and praise
RYAN: The day St. Brendan and the monks embarked, they set sail towards the summer solstice. They had a fair wind, and therefore no labour, only to keep the sails properly set; but after twelve days the wind fell to a dead calm, and they had to labour at the oars until their strength was nearly exhausted. Then St Brendan would encourage and exhort them: ‘Fear not, brothers, for our God will be unto us a helper, a mariner, and a pilot; take in the oars and helm, keep the sails set, and may God do unto us, His servants and His little vessel, as He wills’. They took refreshment always in the evening, and sometimes a wind sprung up; but they knew not from what point it blew, nor in what direction they were sailing.
So we do here tonight what those monks of St. Brendan did in the boat every evening of their long voyage. Like them, we need strength for the journey and God makes a table for us in every place.
So we do here tonight what Jesus did in an upstairs room… [Words of Institution]
Jesus promises to always travel with us, guides us, sustains us, surrounds us. Wild Wind of the Spirit, Come! And open our ears to your call. Come and open our eyes to your presence. Come and open our hearts to your love, So that we might surrender ourselves into your hands without fear, but with a simple trust, ready for all, accepting all, welcoming all. Here we are Lord, feed us and send us on. Amen.
Communion Song: My Hope Is Built
Sending Prayer
ONE: As we go we will not refuse any destination:
For wild blows the wind of the spirit.
TWO: As we go we will embrace all that crosses our way:
For wild blows the wind of the spirit.
THREE: As we go we will open our hearts to the good in all creation, despite our reservations:
For wild blows the wind of the spirit.
ONE: As we go we will hold close to your Word and give all to you:
For wild blows the wind of the spirit.
TWO: As we go we will not be bound by our weaknesses nor limited by our strengths:
For wild blows the wind of the spirit.
THREE: As we go we will see each struggle as a place of learning:
For wild blows the wind of the spirit.
ONE: As we go we will welcome any companion who wishes to journey with us:
For wild blows the wind of the spirit.
TWO: As we go we will not predict or plan for rigid outcomes,
THREE: but will relish all of the surprises and take the greatest risks:
For wild blows the wind of the spirit.
Blessing
RYAN: Bless to us, o God,
the moon rising above us
the Earth firm below us
the Friends gathered around us
and your image deep within us.
Amen.
CELTIC RETREAT MORNING GATHERING
[Three Readers are needed for this liturgy.]
A Vision of the New : Revelation 21v1-5
ONE: Then I saw
a new heaven and a new earth;
for the first “heaven” and the first “earth” had passed away,
and the “sea” was no more.
TWO: And I saw
the holy city, the new Jerusalem,
coming down out of heaven from God,
prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.
THREE: And I heard
a loud voice from the throne saying,
“See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.”
ONE: And the one who was seated on the throne said,
“See, I am making all things new.”
Call to Worship – Peruvian Gloria
Invocation
ONE: The Maker of Heaven and Earth is with us
Glory to the Maker of Heaven and Earth
TWO: The Son of Mary is with us
Glory to the Son of Mary
THREE: The wild and wonderful Spirit is with us
Glory to the wild and wonderful Spirit
ONE/TWO/THREE: We gather in the name of the Holy Three
Amen!
Introduction
ONE: When author Paulo Coehlo wrote, “a ship is safest in port, but that’s not what ships were made for”, he wasn’t the first to say it, and he definitely wasn’t the first to feel it, because deep down we all know that we were made for more than simply a lifetime of playing it safe. Deep down we all know that we were made for a lifetime of adventure and mission and the invigorating, yet terrifying risk of the open and unknown sea of God’s new future.
TWO: And this brings us to this weekend’s patron saint. Brendan was a 6th century Irish monk. He is probably best known for his heroic voyage to find the mythic Isle of the Blessed. The stories about his sail across the uncharted Atlantic Ocean in a small wooden craft with 14 other monks became some of the most popular and enduring medieval legends. In modern terms, St. Brendan was likely clinically disturbed in his obsession with finding this new thing to which God was calling him. He was willing to risk everything.
THREE: Certainly God is doing something new here on this land that is so pregnant with possibility. After years of dreaming and hoping, we can finally see posts rising out of the ground; a framework growing into what’s to come. Certainly God is doing something new within you. In the words of the prophet, “God is about to do something. Something you’ve never seen, heard or thought of before. Can you see it yet?” Or do you need to be disturbed first?
Prayer of Sir Francis Drake
ONE: Let us pray with the words of English sea captain Sir Francis Drake:
Disturb us, Lord,
When we are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.
TWO: Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.
THREE: Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.
We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.
Amen.
Chant : All Things New
The Prophetic Voice : Isaiah 42v5-9
TWO: This is what God says, the Lord,
who created the heavens and stretched them out,
who spread out the earth and what comes from it,
who gives breath to the people upon it
and spirit to those who walk in it:
“I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness,
I have taken you by the hand and kept you;
I have given you as a covenant to the people,
a light to the nations,
to open the eyes that are blind,
to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness.
I am the Lord, that is my name;
my glory I give to no other,
nor my praise to idols.
See, the former things have come to pass,
and new things I now declare;
before they spring forth,
I tell you of them.”
Listening SIlence
THREE: In this nature sanctuary let us take time to listen for the still soft voice of God. [2 minutes silence]
Dressing the Altar
THREE: What is the new direction, undiscovered future, the holy voyage that God is calling you to? – Think of all the things you might leave behind for this new land? – Think of all the risks that might be involved in setting sail? – Think of those who might be in the same boat with you.
– Think of the calling that wont stop calling you.
Keep these questions within you as you walk. Search for an object in nature that might be a symbol of your setting sail. Bring it back to set on the altar as we begin our day (10 minutes to walk and find an object.
Song: Be Thou My Vision
An invitation to Lectio Divina.
God something new is emerging,
Something new is being birthed,
In our lives, in our world and through our faith.
God may we journey with patience and hope towards your newness,
Willing to walk on paths unknown,
That you have marked out with loving care.
May we wait in trust and not fear for your new world,
For the justice and peace and freedom that has been promised,
For those things hoped for and not yet seen.
Knowing that the journey belongs to you
And our future is in your hands.
Chant : All Things New
Wish I was at the Celtic retreat today where they will be finishing with this liturgy. I am heading home to Seattle from Sydney instead. Lots of memories, lots of tears, much to remember and think about.
Today’s post is by Kimberlee Conway Ireton, author of The Circle of Seasons: Meeting God in the Church Year and the forthcoming memoir Cracking Up: A Postpartum Faith Crisis.
It had always seemed to Emily, ever since she could remember, that she was very, very near to a world of wonderful beauty. Between it and herself hung only a thin curtain; she could never draw the curtain aside—but sometimes, just for a moment, a wind fluttered it and then it was as if she caught a glimpse of the enchanting realm beyond—only a glimpse—and heard a note of unearthly music….And always when the flash came to her Emily felt that life was a wonderful, mysterious thing of persistent beauty.
L.M. Montgomery, Emily of New Moon
Reading Emily’s story for the first time at the age of 13, I fell in love. I wanted to be Emily. I wanted her sixth sense, her mysteriousness, her appreciation of beauty, and especially her experience of what she called “the flash.” Oh how I wanted that glimpse of the transcendent, that thrill at the momentary parting of the veil between heaven and earth.
What I did not know then is that I did have these glimpses of the glory beyond. I think I did not recognize them because I did not understand that the flash is a double-edged sword. When the veil parts, and I glimpse—something—it fills me with awe and delights my soul, but it also opens in me a yearning, a deep and almost painful desire. The older I get, the stronger and more aching the longing becomes to plunge into this mysterious beauty and to live in those moments that shimmer with a radiance that is beyond what I usually see or know.
When I was younger, I would grasp at whatever ushered me into the enchanted realm beyond the veil—the sleeve of my husband’s crisply striped shirt, a bowl of roses fresh-cut from my rosebushes and sitting in a bowl on the counter, the crescendo of the organ as we sing the name of Jesus in church—in an attempt to replicate the experience and so quench my desire to live in moments of mystery.
This never works. After the moment has passed, the thing itself is a reminder of what I once saw or felt or heard, but it can no longer usher me into that other realm. Now I (mostly) know better than to pick roses with the expectation that they will open a window on mystery. I’ve learned that I can never enter that other realm by contrivance or desire. I can only try to pay attention, because I never know when or where the veil might part and mystery might unfold before me.
Transfiguration
These weeks between Pentecost and the first Sunday of Advent comprise the second cycle of Ordinary Time. Smack dab in the middle of this season, on August 6, comes the feast of the Transfiguration, one of my favorite holy days. One of the things I love most about this feast is that it falls during Ordinary Time, a profound reminder that when mystery confronts us, it is often when we least expect it—God takes the ordinary moments of our lives and transforms them into something holy.
I imagine that when Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up on Mount Tabor to pray, the disciples are not expecting to glimpse the mystery of the Incarnation. How many times had these disciples prayed with Jesus in the months or years they followed him? Dozens? Hundreds? And never before had the appearance of his face changed and his clothes become dazzling white. Never before had Moses and Elijah appeared with him in glory. So it is hardly surprising that Peter, James, and John are half-asleep as Jesus prays through the night. Only when they fully awaken do they come face to face with mystery: they see Jesus in his glory, a glory that is his from before time, but which has been veiled from their sight until this moment when they finally see him as he truly is.
As Moses and Elijah are about to leave, Peter bursts out in his impetuous way, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (Lk 9:33). He wants this moment to last, I think, but he also, instinctively, wants to contain their glory. And no wonder—perhaps he knows that we mortals can only bear so much reality before it overwhelms our senses.
Perhaps this is why the disciples are terrified as they enter the cloud. They know that the cloud signals the presence of God, and they know that no one can look on God and live. It is not simply because we are sinful and God is holy. No, it is because God is Real, and our finite minds cannot comprehend nor our frail bodies bear the eternity and majesty—the utter Realness—of God.
I began to understand this fear of God experientially a dozen or so years ago when I took a trip to the Olympic Peninsula from my home in Seattle. As I drove up to Hurricane Ridge, I stopped along the side of the road and got out of my car to look at the mountains. I gazed at the enormous peaks and valleys that rose and fell before me in breathtaking beauty all the way to the horizon, and I began to shiver in spite of the warm August sun.
I was, in truth, terrified. In the face of such vastness, such ancient and incomprehensible substantiality, I felt my own smallness and insignificance. I tried to make myself stand there and reckon with the terror I felt in the presence of a world far older and more tremendous than the one I had known only moments before, but I could not. I turned my back on the mountains and fled to the seeming safety of my car.
In my finitude and weakness, I cannot bear to look on ultimate reality any more than I can bear to look directly at the sun. And so reality is veiled, hidden from view—at least most of the time. But every so often, like Emily and the disciples, I glimpse the enchanted realm beyond the veil. I see, for a fleeting moment, the glory of God.
These glimpses beyond the veil are what sustain me, filling me with hope that, ultimately, all will be well. For in the moments when the veil parts, I see the not-yet now, I glimpse the beauty at the heart of all that is, I see things as they really are and not as they usually appear.
It is as if I, like the disciples, am half-asleep and dreaming until the glory of transfiguration overshadows me and I wake, for a moment, to mystery.
This post is excerpted from Kimberlee’s book, The Circle of Seasons: Meeting God in the Church Year.
The MSA 22nd Annual retreat begins tomorrow evening on Camano Island. There is still time to consider attending, just email me for directions and pay at the site. However for those, like me who are too distant there are other ways to enter into the spirit of the event. Consider reading along with the liturgies which I will post over the next few days. We begin with evening prayers Friday evening, this year using the same prayers as last year.
While I sat beside my mother lost week I read to her from the book In Search of Sacred Places: Looking for Wisdom on Celtic Holy Islands. She loved the story of Iona and Columba often asking me to keep reading even after my voice was hoarse and I wanted to stop.
One reflection from the book really stood out for me.
Everything on Iona has a name. each physical feature of the island has been part of a specific human experience and therefore thought worthy of bearing a name….
These many names are a testimony to the human scale of life on Iona. As the scale of physical size diminishes as one travels to the island-England, Scotland, Mull, Iona-the scale of individuals and spiritual significance increases. Walking is the maximum desirable speed for seeing things fully enough to name them. And when we name things we begin to value them. No wonder we want to be named and known. (37)
To really see and fully enter into the world around us we must walk not run or drive. And when we walk we want to name everything and everyone. We say hello to the people we meet, we look at the flowers and mention them by name, we watch the birds and identify the species. We even like to give our own names to landmarks we pass and houses we enjoy.
To give something an appropriate name that reflects its nature, we must be able to see it fully. To continue appreciating it we need to slow down and notice, not once but regularly. Only in walking or in stillness is this possible.
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