The Celtic Quest

The Celtic Quest. It can take a person around the world...to places like the island of Iona in Scotland...or across Canada from the prairies to Cape Breton and back again. And when the quest has started, it is amazing what will turn up that reflects back onto it.

I was visiting with my dad for a few days before coming back to Alberta. On the Friday evening, the counties of Lennox and Addington celebrated their 150th anniversary. There was a big concert on the lawn behind the courthouse that drew almost 1,000 people. It was free. Another important word in the Celtic quest. The lead performance was by Natalie MacMaster and her husband, Donell Leahy. I had to go and listen for a short while since Natalie and I had been...ahem...taught by the same fiddle instructor. She and Donell are both amazing fiddle players. I left however, when their five year old daughter came out on stage with a tiny violin and played the very first piece that I had been taught three weeks before...and played it much better than I! Time to go home!

The 150th anniversary celebration for Lennox and Addington

Natalie also told us that her uncle, Buddy MacMaster had died the day before. He was one of the great fiddle players in Cape Breton and Canada. (Natalie holds an honourary Doctor of Divinity degree from the Atlantic School of Theology, the United Church seminary in Halifax.)

Buddy MacMaster, October 18, 1924 - August 20, 2014

I rented a fiddle on Friday.

That was supposed to be the end of the fiddle comments, but....I think I forgot to share this lovely picture with you. It is a quintessential Canadian picture. Three adorable children of Chinese ethnicity playing Celtic fiddle music of a Cape Breton variety on the harbour front in Halifax. They were RAKING in the loonies and toonies! Again, playing the same piece of music Troy had been trying to teach me. I will learn that piece and then I am going to set up at the Farmer's market with an open fiddle case on a Saturday morning! 

Three cute kids earning enough for fiddle lessons for the upcoming year

Ok...on to the work front (all right, how many of you read: on to the boring stuff? And stopped reading?) 

The Celtic Quest...is actually one of the books I am currently reading. One of...because I usually have more than one on the go. The other one is "The World of Bede." I will tell you more about Bede next week. He is an English historian from the 8th century.

Rosemary Power writes "The Celtic Quest." In her book she provides some background on the rise of Celtic Spirituality. Celtic Spirituality is a movement that arose in the late 20th century in response to spiritual needs of the time. Rosemary is quick to point out that there is a large gap between what is accepted as Celtic Spirituality now and what can be studied as Celtic Christianity from 1500 years ago. Reading what we have left in text and poetry and song lyrics from that long ago and translating it into contemporary context is not an easy matter. Hence, some of the need to read Bede. (Don't you love it when it just naturally happens that way!)

The Venerable Bede. He brings to light some of the historical background of Celtic Christianity and he will be who I search out this coming week at St. Andrew's College in Saskatoon.

Learnings:

1. I need to look at two different things, Celtic Christianity from 1500 years ago and Celtic Spirituality that has developed in the last 30 years. What are the connections? Does the second arise from the first? Does it matter?

2. What we call Celtic could be more accurately called Gaelic. There are six languages in the Celtic language grouping. Scots Gaelic, Irish Gaelic, Manx Gaelic (from the Isle of Man), Welsh, Cornish (from the Cornwall area), and Breton (Brittany). Most of the material that the new Celtic spirituality references comes from Scottish Gaelic and Irish Gaelic sources. 

Cuibheas air a-nis. 

Around Halifax

Last Friday, I pressed the publish blog button on blog #3 before I actually drove away from the Gaelic College. (One takes advantage of free Internet where one can!) I hadn't realized how accurate I would be. Liam, the duty piper, was playing the pipes as I drove away!

Over the past week in reflecting on my two weeks at the College, I realize how much I learned during that time, and how exhausting it is to learn!

A last picture from  the Gaelic College (maybe)

I spent the next four days in Halifax...some recovery time...some sightseeing...some exercise. I have to fit into the kilt by the time I get back for the first Sunday of December.

On Sunday I attended Ft. Massey United Church (Fort Massey By the Sea). This is the church that Caryn attended and sang in the choir last fall. Unfortunately, the choir director was away, completing a European tour of organs and cathedrals. But I was able to thank the minister, Trent, and several congregation members for taking Caryn in and making her part of their church family for those 4 months.

I think they were surprised to be thanked. It was what any congregation would do. And it is...or should be. It was what Westdale did in Peterborough and what Grace would do. That is part of what it means to be church. I would expect any of us...or our children or grandchildren...to go into any United Church and be welcomed as part of the family (That is not a musical cue). It was still important to thank them.

Ft. Massey United Church, Halifax

Another famous spot that I visited on Monday.

Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia

Aside from sightseeing and brain overload recovery, part of my purpose in going to Halifax was to meet up with Ivan Gregan, who is the minister at one of our churches in Dartmouth. Ivan, as it turns out, is also on sabbatical so I did not get a chance to meet face to face. However, we did have quite a long conversation on Monday morning about Celtic Christianity.

Part of our discussion was around the differences between Celtic Christianity and Mediterranean Christianity.

One example of these differences concerns where God is to be found. In Mediterranean spirituality the gods raced across the heavens...and so God was up there when Christianity came along. In pre-Christian Celtic spirituality, the gods were all around...behind a tree...in the rocks. And so God remained a very present God...close at hand...not somewhere far away.

Ivan also had some very interesting things to say about the use of numbers in scripture. I will talk more about that in a subsequent blog when the historical reading I have been doing is unbearably boring and too tedious to report!

Leaving Halifax, I traveled north through New Brunswick and again I was unsuccessful in trying to track down a fellow clergy. I did notice that most of Ontario seemed to be driving on the highway with me heading west. In fact, half of Ontario seemed to be in the Maritimes during August.

I pulled off the highway to drive past the home where I grew up.

 Where I grew up. These trees were seedlings.

I stopped to take a picture of my home church.

 St. Andrew's United Church, Martintown, Ontario

And back to dad's for a few days before flying back to Edmonton.

Tha mi duillich

Tha mi duillich! I am sorry...but I learned to swear in Gaelic. I am not going to type any of it here. I don't want people to memorize it and be saying things when I get back! However, I am not really sure us English speakers would think it was really swearing anyway. (The Gaelic phrase, means "I am sorry"...it is not swearing! Sorry! Really!)

Before I begin the second week blog, I ended the last blog saying that I toured the island on the weekend. On Sunday afternoon I went to church. It was a United Church and it was in the Highland Village at Iona. I was the only preacher in the church...in fact the only person, period. And I am making no comment about THAT! This is the church.

 Malagawatch Church

In the village, it reverts to its Presbyterian roots, but the whole story of the United Church congregation that donated the building and the church's move...including a 15 kilometre barge ride across Bras D'or Lake...is documented inside the church.

Inside the church, which is very austere in keeping with the Scots Presbyterian tradition, there is one artifact of ornamentation. In my experience, it is the least useful device in a sanctuary. Can you guess what it might be? Here is a picture of this piece of art work from the Malagawatch Church.

A clock mounted on the balcony of the Malagawatch Church

Highland Village, Iona, Nova Scotia

Was there ever a device so unused as a clock which only the preacher can see?

Week two at the Gaelic College was as full as the first. I moved up a level in bodhran to advanced beginner. I am not sure if that is a paradoxical expression or not. I repeated the same level of Gaelic, but with a different teacher and using the immersion method of teaching. Which means only conversation...nothing written down, so any Gaelic phrases I use from now on came from week one or the internet. I returned to beginner fiddle, repeated the history of the Gael, and took storytelling. This last class had some useful tips and practice that will come in handy for preaching later on.

My fiddle instructor was Stan Chapman. Stan has taught Natalie McMaster, Ashley McIsaac, the Beaton sisters and many others. I feel privileged to have taken lessons from him...and sorry that he had to listen to the screechings and squawkings of my bow across the strings.

Stan Chapman at a ceilidh in Baddeck

History of the Gael. I took the class from two different people and it was excellent both times. This week, it was taught by Lewis McKinnon who is the Executive Director of the Office for Gaelic Affairs...a department of the Nova Scotia government. (Did I mention that Rodney MacDonald, the former premier of Nova Scotia, is the CEO of the Gaelic College? And he is a darn fine fiddle player!) 

The history of the Gael will be the course that provides the most useful background information for the work that I will be doing around Celtic spirituality and Celtic Christianity. However, as I typed that sentence, I am thinking that most of the instructors here would disagree with that. They would say that it all starts with the singing.

In several of the courses...from history to Gaelic to fiddle...teachers have been saying that the rhythm of the singing dictates the flow of the language and the rhythm of the instrumental music. And the Gael had songs for every part of their life. We learned several songs for milling the woven fabric. There were hunting songs and farming songs and songs for every occasion. So, it might not be the history course that is most useful when looking into the spirituality of the Gael/Celt. It might all flow from the music.

I don't, however, have the ability to put that music on here, so I will say that St. Columba is a fascinating start to the story. St. Columba, or Calum Cille as he was known at that time, brought Christianity to Scotland. Well, actually, it was there in parts of the country, but he founded the monastery on the Island of Iona and then proceeded to Christianize the Picts. I will be talking quite a bit more of St. Columba next month.

In talking with my history instructor, I commented on the age of the Gaelic speakers and teachers here at the college...as well as the age of most of the music teachers. Without asking them, they seem to be in their mid to late 20s...which means they could be in their early 30s looking from my advanced years. He said that there is a resurgence of interest in the Gaelic language and culture in this generation. Many took it in elementary school. I also notice an abundance of rings indicating graduates of St. Francis Xavier University in Antigonish. I guess I expected to be taught by some grizzled old Scot from up in the hills.

With week two finished, I am driving to Halifax for a few days of looking around. I had hoped to chat with Ivan Gregan. I still may be able to do that, but he is also on sabbatical right now and is not in Dartmouth, but somewhere in northern New Brunswick.

At most hours of the day here, the sounds of a piper can be heard from somewhere on the campus. That will be the last sound that I hear as I drive out the gate and down the road.

De an t-ainm a th'ort?

De an t-ainm a th'ort? Is mise Eoghann.

The first question and answer we learned in Gaelic class. What is your name? My name is Eoghann (Hugh). Of course there are a couple of accent marks missing, but I haven't figured out how to do that here yet.

Gaelic...what a language. There are only 17 letters in the Gaelic alphabet, but they combine for more sounds than we have in English. Just when you think it MUST sound THIS way...it doesn't!

That was my first lesson last Monday morning. It was the start of an exciting and challenging week. There were five 50 minute classes each day as well as optional activities. I was exhausted at the end of each day. Besides Gaelic, I took the History of the Gaels, Gaelic song, Beginner Fiddle, and Beginner Bodhran (boron)...the Irish drum.

The Gaelic College is an amazing place. They bring in some of the best teachers from around Cape Breton and internationally. The fiddle teachers are award winners. The Bodhran teacher, while originally from here, now comes in from Scotland to teach. I had one on one lessons with a young man who tours extensively playing Cape Breton fiddle music. When I said I lived in Sherwood Park, he said..."I've played at Festival Place."

The most amazing night of the week was Wednesday when all the teachers performed for two hours.  Then it was the students' turn on Thursday night, and no, I did not perform!

This is St. Ann's Bay. The college is above this body of water.

This is Cameron Stewart, the son of my bodhran teacher from Scotland. He is 9 and plays amazingly.

Cameron Stewart

I went to my first ceilidh on Monday night. It was in the Roman Catholic parish hall in Baddeck. One of our instructors was playing. They asked where everyone was from partway through. Half the people were from the U.S. The rest of us were spread across Canada. You never know who you will run into no matter where you are. One couple was from Ardrossan. Another couple was from Glengarry...where I grew up. They were studying at the college too. When I chatted with him the next day it turns out we played soccer against each other 40 years ago. Just typing that makes me feel old!

Dara MacDonald, fiddle instructor, accompanied by Jennifer Bowman.

St. Michael's Parish Hall, Baddeck

With the weekend off, I traveled around the island and saw some of the sights...much ocean whenever I could. 

 West Mabou Beach

I will add learnings from this week and the second as the weeks and blogs go on. But the most important thing I learned this week was a Gaelic phrase:

Caite bheil an taigh beag?  Where is a little house? I probably don't need to translate that any further. 

To Cape Breton

Flights are always interesting. Sometimes they are smooth. You are traveling alone, have a seat by the window and there is no one in the middle seat...a quiet restful flight...especially for an introvert.

Then you have flights where an unaccompanied minor is put into the seat beside you...a charming young girl at first...but by the end of the 3 1/2 hour flight you have some idea why she is going to spend 3 weeks in Ontario with grandma and grandpa. And you believe her when she announces...as you are waiting to disembark (flee) the aircraft...that she can be a "challenge" sometimes, as she kicks the seat in front of her barely missing your carry-on bag with the computer inside.

That makes the flight from Toronto to Kingston on a little 18 seater that wobbles and bobs with the Lake Ontario up and down drafts a pure pleasure!

I spent a day with my dad and then borrowing his car, set off for Cape Breton and the Gaelic College.

South of Montreal, the thought crossed my mind that the land was flatter than the Regina plain!

A day and 1/2 later I passed into Nova Scotia.

And finally arrived at the Gaelic College.

And checked into my room. St. Columba should have had it this good!

All ready to start a new adventure.