Stranded on Cuthbert’s Isle

It’s been a week or so since I returned from Lindisfarne, but my experiences there are still very vivid in my mind. Thank you so much if you’re one of those who prayed for me during my time away.
I’m always greatly blessed by Ray Simpson, who I stayed with whilst I was on the island. For those of you that don’t know Ray, he’s the guardian of a Christian community called The Community of St Aidan and St Hilda, based on Lindisfarne. He’s also written many books on Celtic spirituality, and knows more about ‘New Monasticism’ than most! An interview with Ray on Pilgrimage can be found here. More than all Ray does though, I really value him for who he is; a great listener, always asking probing questions to ensure that he really understands what he’s being told, and not afraid to ask really challenging questions.

So, as I arrived at his house on the island, not really knowing what to expect from this pilgrimage, it was great to be able to discuss my journey with Ray. Due to the changing tide times, my first full day on the island was the best time to make my way onto Cuthbert’s Isle. The island, with a shoreline at high tide not much bigger than a small house, is to the southwestern corner of Lindisfarne, near the ruins of the old monastery. Legend has it that St. Cuthbert used to travel over to the island so that he could spend time with God on his own, enabling him to get some time away from his fellow monks, who were seeking his council all the time!
On this particular Tuesday morning I stocked up with provisions, and enjoyed the early morning quiet before the tide opened up, allowing the usual tourist crowds onto the main island. Lindisfarne itself is cut off for about 6hrs by the tide, whereas Cuthbert’s Isle is inaccessible for about 10hrs – unless you want to get wet! About lunchtime I started to mentally prepare myself for going down to the smaller island and deliberately getting myself stranded. I’ve wanted to do the journey for a couple of years, and I guess there were two main motivations; to be in a place where there was such a powerful man of prayer doing the same thing a thousand years ago, and to go through the rigour of isolating myself from all distractions specifically with the intention of focussing on God.
It was the latter aspiration that worried me slightly. How would I cope with 10 hours on my own, with absolutely nothing to do other than read my bible and pray? This was certainly not a position I had ever placed myself in before.
As I travelled over to Cuthbert’s Isle, I watched those around me peering into rock pools, wandering over to the island, lingering a while, and walking back to Lindisfarne. I used this time just to get used to being there. I needed to know that there was enough shelter from the wind, as although the weather was good, it was a little too cold to be fully exposed to the elements for a full 10 hours. Having worked out where I could keep warm, I just took in all my new surroundings – the mainland, Lindisfarne, a variety of seabirds, the seals singing away on the sandbanks in the distance, and the channel that would soon fill with water as the tide returned. In my past pilgrimages to the island, I’ve found Lindisfarne a place where its very easy to be thankful to God for all he has done in my life, the lives of those around me, and everything he is doing in the nations. This time was no exception, and my prayers easily centred on this as the last few people picked their way across the rocks before being trapped with me on the island by the rising tide.
After a time I started to ask God what I should pray for and how. Although I found Him none too directive (!), there was an incredible piece about my situation. None of my fears about finding the time mentally challenging materialised, and I was able to relax in His presence really easily. This led me to a period of intercession that was to last most of my time on Cuthbert’s Isle. I wouldn’t say I’m a great intercessor, but the Spirit laid on my heart many people and situations close to my heart that I was readily able to bring to Him.
In little breaks between times of prayer, I was able to take in my surroundings some more, and I particularly remember getting fired up to pray for England for a time, and about something God showed me in the movement of the tide. I observed that I could actually hear the tide coming in and going out. In addition to the noise of the waves, I could hear the washing action of the larger movement of water over the stones in the estuary. I felt that the action of the waves on the surface of the water, bobbing up and down rapidly, and the slower, but more powerful and forceful movement of the tide, were a kind of spiritual or cultural metaphor. We all run around with our own actions and agendas like the waves, but there are larger, more forceful tides of the spirit or of our culture that are going on around us, whether we register them or not. My prayer is that God will turn the tide of this nation back towards Him!
At about 9pm it got dark, and I lit a little nightlight I’d taken over with me, before spending my last couple of hours on the island praying for myself. By 11pm, the tide had receded, and I was very thankful for the torch that I had taken over to the island with me, as I picked my way back across the rocks by the route that I had observed others walking some 10 hours before.
I can’t say that I had any great revelation in my time on Cuthbert’s Isle, but I’m fairly convinced that I didn’t need it. God has been taking me forward in a number of areas over the past few months, and I just need to get on with the things I know I need to do. I do know, however, that this little pilgrimage was a great time for me to be with Jesus, and I pray that he will continue to make me more like Him as I seek Him out in times like this, and in my everyday living.