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About a month ago, I had the opportunity to be in Tofino on Vancouver Island.  If you have never been there, I encourage you to try to find a chance to visit.  A quick descriptor would be a smaller town with lots of coffee shops on the west coast of Vancouver Island famous for surfing, long beaches, rocky outcrops, lichen draped trees, large waves crashing on shore, plenty of wildlife and unpredictable weather.  I could probably use a few more words to describe it more accurately but if you have been there you will know what I mean.  

I was there to take the Sunday Service at the church that has been present for more than 100 years.  A classic British Columbia wooden structure with charm and beauty that stirs the soul.  But I also had lots of time in the town of Tofino and the surrounding area with friends and family.

On this specific day a couple of us found our way to a particular beach to feel the wind on our faces, to taste the smell of the ocean and to let the dog run on the expanse of the sand.  We made our way down the beach following the edge of the ocean.  Shaped by thousands of years of weathering and the force of waves on the land, it curved around towards a tiny island that had clearly once been fully linked to the mainland but with time had been separated to form its own identity.  It was clear that at high tide the small islet was surrounded by water.  At low tide, as it was on the day we were trapsing along, it was easy to walk out on the sand to meet the island.  

It seemed a lovely image to me of sometimes connected, sometimes separated.  Sometimes linked sometimes distinct.  Sometimes part of the whole and sometimes disconnected.  But in thinking about it a bit more it seemed to speak to the faith life to me.  This little island at times appears disconnected from the great Other of life but in actual fact it is always linked, always joined but sometimes we don’t notice that full picture.  Sometimes we feel fully connected to God’s love and God’s presence and God’s Spirit within us and at other times,  we can hardly pay notice to the link even though it is the underpinning, the foundation of all else in life.

There is a different small island off the north coast of England that I once walked out towards as well.  It is known as Lindisfarne or simply Holy Island.  At low tide, one is able to walk on the wet sand to get out to the island, but at high tide this is no longer possible.  Pilgrims for hundreds of years have made this journey out to this secluded place and over the years people have been caught half way across by the tide despite the warnings.  In fact, there are places of refuge just in case anyone is trapped by the fast flowing incoming tide.  This wet sand trek has become known as part of a great pilgrimage route because St. Cuthbert lived on the island in the seventh century.  He was the abbot of the monastery there but more importantly people would come to him in search of life’s purpose, life’s meaning, life’s centre.  The journey out to that island was seen as a holy walk to seek something more important in life than the things that usually take up most of our time.  It was a journey to seek the voice of God in and amongst all the noise and clutter of this world.  And St. Cuthbert was known as one who could help people listen and see and know that indeed God was near.  He invited people to pay deeper attention to the presence of God in our lives.  To pay attention to the Holy Spirit continuing to invite us closer and respond to a calling in our intentionality of living into a ministry to which God beckons. 

Maybe it was because Lindisfarne was simply a part-time island but the journey out to this small lonesome spot seemed to be part of stepping into a more intentional faith journey where the whispers of God are heard with more regularity; inviting individuals to see that the path to God is always at our feet but sometimes we only notice it if the tide is out.  Much like that small island off Tofino.  

John O’Donohue wrote a passage called The Traveler, perhaps it speaks to this understanding that the whole of life is a pilgrimage or a search and discovery of God amongst us.  Listen to a portion:  

When you travel, a new silence goes with you, And if you listen, you will hear what your heart would love to say.

A journey can become a sacred thing: make sure, before you go, to take the time to bless your going forth, to free your heart of ballast so that the compass of your soul might direct you toward the territories of spirit where you will discover more of your hidden life, And the urgencies that deserve to claim you.

May you travel in an awakened way, gathered wisely into your inner ground; that you may not waste the invitations which wait along the way to transform you.

May you travel safely, arrive refreshed, and live your time away to its fullest; return home more enriched, and free to balance the gift of days which call you.

  In the gospel reading for today, Jesus prayed this for his disciples, “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth.  As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.”  This morning we will be celebrating the confirmation, reaffirmation and reception of many people seeking to continue to deepen their faith in God and God’s love.  They are deepening their trust in the truth that Jesus spoke about, the truth of God’s abiding presence and relationship with us.  They are making a commitment related to their own pilgrimage in life and a closer attention to where the Spirit might be leading. They are marking a point on their life journey where a deeper connection to the gospel of Christ is awakening them to a deeper trust in God.  They are working to become a prime example of discovering that island that many seek but only seems obvious at that low tide when we are paying closest attention, eager to draw near to the truth.

Last Sunday we celebrated Pentecost and the arrival of the Holy Spirit on the first followers of Jesus.  The description was of tongues of flame descending, of a wind blowing through the room, of new languages being spoken and new perspective discovered.  That same Spirit continues to descend on the followers of Christ; even now, even here.  It may not be with those same flames of fire or a gale-force wind but that same Spirit is known as we gather and invited to descend once again on those committing to a deeper walk with Christ.  For that Spirit awakens and invites us into a knowledge of the true purposes of life as we see in Jesus Christ.  

All of us here, along with those who will soon come forward, are affirming that we trust in God’s love as we walk in this world. In Confirmation, Reaffirmation and Reception we are acknowledging this link and this pilgrimage to continue even when we step out of the doors of this cathedral, seeking that island even at high tide.  Aware that we are called to walk in a way in this world that reminds us of our holy calling and holy purpose.  That we are called to be light in this world, aware of the true light which is the light of all people.  May we carry that light with us whether in Tofino, Surrey, Maple Ridge or Vancouver.  

Or as St. Francis once said:   It is no use walking anywhere to preach if our walking is not our preaching.