The stone is rolled away

We had a wonderful Easter celebration at the church. Lots of worship services, lots of singing, lots of people - - and plenty of energy expended. Someone asked how the sabbatical plans were developing, and all I could do was smile!

It is time, however, to finalize some plans for the summer. My wife Jamie and I will spend some time in Scotland, departing Newark airport on July 23 and returning about twelve days later. She is hoping to find mountains of wool in order to knit the perfect sweater. I'm intrigued by the psalm singing of the Outer Hebrides, and it looks like we'll be able to hear it.

Friends tell me that Iona is a must-see stop. The little island off the west coast of Scotland is steeped in Christian history. There's an old abbey on the isalnd, and thousands have gone there on pilgrimage. Never ones to break a trend, we've booked an evening's stay in a local inn on Iona, and expect to worship there for a midweek service.

Other stops will include some mountain vistas, a few castles, a couple of hundred yarn shops, and perhaps even a whisky distillerary. We plan to ramble around on our own, avoiding the tour buses and taking in the scenery on our own schedule. In the middle of the trip, we'll get over to the Isle of Lewis. Jamie found a charming B&B in Stornoway, and we plan to spend at least two nights there.

The Isle of Lewis shuts down on the Sabbath - an intriguing ideal which I have never known in reality. The Stornoway shops are closed and everybody rests. Worship will be at the Back Free Church, perhaps twice on that day if we're up to it. That's the remarkable congregation that has released two CDs of traditional psalm singing. Recently I introduced this music to an adult education class at our church, and spun the theory that Willie Ruff of Yale had passed along -- that such psalm singing is a musical forebear of jazz. His theory raised a few eyebrows in the room, but it continues to make some odd sense to me. And if nothing else, the way they sing the psalms on Lewis deeply, deeply moving to me.

It looks like we will tour around Lewis if we can line up a ride. The ancient stones of Callanish are almost as old as Stonehenge, and just about as impressive.

Lewis looks to be an austere land, drenched in faith and tradition, and perfectly suited for the kind of reflection that I've begun.