And then again...

Following my previous day's proclamation regarding God's "natural church" in the woods, I must say, there is also nothing quite like sitting in a very, very old church whose stone walls and high wood ceilings dating hundreds of years old, enormous organ pipes bellowing and choir singing, elevate my spirit and transcend my thoughts in communion with the Almighty.

I give you - Church of the Holy Rude ("rude" or "rood" means cross) in Stirling, Scotland. Site of Mary, Queen of Scots' attendance, baptism and coronation of her son, James VI, and much, much more dramatic history. When I travel, I like to get a feel for the local life, so this morning, in cold, hard rain, my mate and I walked the short 4 minutes to church service. Welcomed by all, I sat in reverence, trying to preserve this amazing moment. These settings provoke such serious contemplation.

Tomorrow I will set down some thoughts from the sermon, but for now...

Where do ye most feel connected, if you do, to a higher power? Out in nature? In a glorious cathedral? In your own Zen room? In the tub? Alone or with others? Silent or rousing choir? Nowhere? Everywhere?

Joseph Campbell (See my suggested readings) speaks of finding your bliss station. Is this where we find God?

Confession#104: My bliss station is when all three of my grown children are in another room and I sit silent, hearing their laughter and murmured talk. I am not in the scene, just listening...and smiling. That, for me, is pure bliss.

Confession #105: During today's intentions part of the service, I welled up with gratitude to God, the Universe, whatever my source is, for my incredible journey to Scotland, for my health and good fortune while here, and for such loving friends and family to return to.

Divine Nature

If I thought I would have the energy at each day's end to blog after hiking the hills of Scotland, boy was I wrong-o. So here is a much pined-for entry...

We begin with a photo of a large, carved stone inscribed to honor John Ruskin. This rests at Derwentwater Lake in the heart of England's most beautifully scenic shire, Cumbria, with its deep, rolling hills of green, gold, and purple, its placid lakes and rushing waterfalls.

THE SPIRIT OF GOD IS AROUND YOU IN THE AIR THAT YOU BREATHE/HIS GLORY IN THE LIGHT THAT YOU SEE AND IN THE FRUITFULNESS OF THE EARTH AND THE JOY OF ITS CREATURES/HE HAS WRITTEN FOR YOU, DAY BY DAY, HIS REVELATION AS HE HAS GRANTED YOU, DAY BY DAY, YOUR DAILY BREAD.

Confession #103: I have always felt closest to the creator of the universe while in nature. Spending a Sunday in the woods connects me to all living things and puts me in such a spiritual place. No cathedral on earth, no service of pipe organ and rote prayer can lay open to me the wonders of a divine plan as well as England's Lake District. In a church, all the focus is on man and a man-made relationship to God. But what is that relationship unless in close alliance to the rest of His creation here? In nature, I am reminded of human's place within the greater design. Guess it's the pantheist in me, but I am tempted to re-phrase the bumper sticker to "Know Nature, Know God."

With love, from Scotland

I'll Take the Low Road...

Well, kidlins, your bible virgin is a long, long way from home. I send you this from the hills of Scotland! Here I am enjoying a month of extraordinary views, delightful people, and fabulous weather.

Now, I set out my bible to take to keep up with this, and don't ya know, I forgot it. No, really! So I see it as a sign to do some spiritual reflecting inspired by what I see around me here. (By the way, the word "inspired" is from "in-spirited" so it's all in the same circle.)

Soooo, yesterday we visited St. Andrews Golf Club and St. Andrews Cathedral, or its ruins thereof. And atop a hill overlooking a stunning beach is a tall monument commemorating the sacrifice of four men put to death by fire for their Protestant views. This led me to think about so many, many others in history who have chosen death, rather than renounce their beliefs, and I wondered - could I? And what WOULD I be willing to die for? If I renounce my faith aloud to mere mortal men, but God knows my heart on the inside, wouldn't that be what's important?

Could I die for the sake of freedom, like William Wallace of Braveheart fame, whose huge monument looms in the distance in view from my flat's bedroom window?

So here is my first Scottish confession:

Confession #102: Though one can never be sure without it happening, I don't believe I would die for anything other than my family. And I do feel sure I could and would die for them. So I guess, for me, Love trumps Freedom, Faith, and Honor.