Last October, a group of 13 clergy had the extraordinary opportunity to participate in a spiritual pilgrimage to the sacred Isle of Iona, situated off the western coast of Scotland. The pilgrimage allowed clergy to immerse themselves in the holiness of the “Cradle of Christianity” in the United Kingdom. Each day was filled with meaningful worship, moments of solitude and an exploration of the dynamic faith of the Christian Celts. CBFNC’s Helping Pastors Thrive ministry was able to provide this opportunity thanks to our grant from Lilly Endowment. Below are reflections from two clergy members about their experience.
By Len Keever (Pastor, First Baptist, Clayton)
In John 1:38 Jesus asks Andrew, “What are you looking for?” It is a question that sets us all on a journey to discover our deepest longings, our identity as children of God. It is a question that isn’t answered as much with words as with the choices we make as we seek to follow Christ. Indeed, for now, the journey is the destination.
The reward for the opportunity to go on the pilgrimage to Iona was both the place and the journey; the complexity of travel and the simplicity of arrival. One can write about the history of the island, tell about the events of each day or try as best as one can to share in words how it touched their heart. What follows is my attempt to put into words what I experienced there. My hope is that it encourages others to pay attention to those “thin places” where God speaks deep to deep.
October 20, 2025
I am reminded of a John Denver lyric, “Coming home to a place I’ve never been before.” This sanctuary feels like home. The Psalm this week (131) speaks of being like a weaned child with its mother. That describes the peace I am now feeling: being where I am supposed to be, enjoying the silence of the room, listening for the heartbeat of God.
Strangely, I sense others here with me. I envision Cathy beside me, my partner, friend, companion, wife, gift from God. I sense my parents and grandparents, friends too who have matriculated this life for the other. Is this what it means to be in a thin place? I want to speak to them but remain silent thinking my words would interrupt the moment. I want to sit in this sacred silence surrounded by the love God has provided in my lifetime.
October 21, 2025
I am up early. I showered and gathered my things hoping a light would be on in the sanctuary. I wanted to be alone with God in thissacred space. I did not come to be a tourist. I came to experience God in greater measure. I want, I am praying for, the touch of the Holy.
In my first thoughts I remembered tasks back home; things that need fixing. I try to push them aside to breathe in the breath around me. For nearly 2,000 years people have journeyed here to worship, adore, seek answers and discover purpose. That is why I am here. I ask for the healing of my heart. I want to truly forgive and put behind me the hurts I carry and attitudes I nurture that are unhealthy. I want to be with you Lord and by being less, be made whole.
I do not want to lose this peace I cannot describe. There is joy present—a sense of being seen, a sense of a smile directed at my heart, the knowing gaze of God. God sees my faults and my sin; my missteps and my stumbling. I discover laughter more than judgment—the compassionate loving of God who knows the end and the surprise of my redemption that awaits.
A friend once told me that the fourth answer to prayer is “Boy, have I got a surprise for you!” I discern God’s pleasure in waiting for me to discover the secret hidden under all my layers of pretense, stubbornness and longing; all the selfishness and craving to belong. The smile of God is light in a world of judging darkness, illumination amidst distractions and despair. The warmth of the Spirit’s fire is not felt under layers of work and responsibilities but in the nakedness of surrender, the giving up, to be taken in. Thanks be to God!
by Mike Parnell (Pastor, Temple Baptist, Raleigh)
Why would a group of Baptists from North Carolina travel to Scotland to stay in the abbey on the island of Iona? That was a question we faced during our stay at a very un-Baptist location in the Hebrides.
I was one of 13 people who made the journey to spend a week at the abbey. When we arrived at Iona, we found that most of the folks there were from parts of Great Britain. Those who were already there gave us the side-eye, not knowing what to make of us.
It would seem our reputation had preceded us. Our press has not been good. Much of what is reported about us Baptists does not paint a rosy picture.
Those who don’t know Baptists lump them into what they see in the media. Because we are so diverse—and because many tend to put people into the “one-size-fits-all” category—you can understand the suspicion we met upon our arrival.
Undaunted, we set out to be what Iona is: an ecumenical community of faith. It took time, but we won over the people there.
I had a conversation with a man from England. He looked at me and said that if you had told him he would spend a week with a bunch of Baptists from the south of America—and enjoy it—he would have said you were crazy.
“You have changed my mind about Americans,” he said. It was good that we got to do a little missionary work at Iona.
Iona was described by George MacLeod as being a “thin place”—where this world and the world of the divine are separated by a very thin veil. In her book on the history of Iona, Rosemary Power says Iona is “a place where the spiritual is constantly renewed by what people bring as well as what they are open to receive.”
Power’s description echoed my personal experience of Iona. I have been to many retreat centers, but I never felt what I felt on Iona. It was a profoundly moving experience that renewed me.
There is a story of a man who wanted to go on safari in Africa. Upon his arrival, he hired men to be bearers for the trip and an interpreter. They began the journey.
At the beginning of their third day traveling into the jungle, the man could not get the bearers to get up and go on. In anger, he went to the interpreter and told him to order the bearers to get up and move forward. The interpreter told the man that the bearers were sitting, waiting for their souls to catch up with them.
While at Iona, I felt my soul catch up to me. It was a week I will never forget. There were moments of divine encounter that transformed me.
I will be returning to Iona one day. It will not necessarily be from a desire to repeat what happened on my first trip. That cannot happen.
But I can return and remember. And remembering is powerful.
That is what we do in communion. We do it in remembrance of Christ. That remembering is life-changing.
Going to Iona changed me.
A full version of Mike Parnell’s reflection first appeared online in Good Faith Media on December 4, 2025.
