Celtic Journeys and Pilgrim Walks
(led by Michael Begg)
The Road to Avelin
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The fact that we have had 19 addresses in 35 years of marriage could be interpreted as meaning that my wife Andrea and I are a bit restless. Such travelling, and the changes and challenges involved, have given our family a ready response to the question "Where are you from?" The answer is,
" Here". We carry our home with us and find different addresses to park it." My work with the Methodist Church, and more lately with Christian Aid, which were the reason for most of the moves, involved thousands of miles of travel and exposed me to many countries, cultures, religions and belief systems. Finally, I visited Rwanda. It was there, in a church still heavy with the sickly smell of death and among the bones of over 5000 people that I realised that though I had travelled so many adventure-filled miles and been challenged by poverty, hunger, natural disaster and war, there was one journey still not completed - the journey inwards. The places, the people and their stories I encountered in Rwanda, seemed to wipe out my past. Without doubt my heart was broken. There was a sense in which I felt God had died and the faith that had sustained me for so long was shredded.
When I returned to Ireland I began to realise the immensity of what had happened to me. I could no longer avoid the painful inner journey. Many people walked with me on that awful journey. There was the 13-year-old girl who heard me speak and who, as she left the church, self- consciously pushed a torn piece of pink paper into my hand with a message of love and hope. There was a nun, a priest, my rector and not least my wife, son and daughter. There was also a significant group who `accidentally` came to our home ,to Avelin - for bed and breakfast and found, in their words, "a place and a space" to rediscover themselves. Unwittingly our home, which had experienced such grief, had become, a place not just for the accidental holiday maker in search of a night's lodging, but for meeting people who ministered to us and in return felt ministered to. They were young and old, Christian, Buddhist, Jewish, many who had `given up on religion`, and many who, like me, were open and questioning and, above all, searching.
So when I unexpectedly, and rather traumatically, found myself 'unemployed' the idea of allowing Avelin Bed and Breakfast to become Avelin Retreat was conceived and brought to birth. As part of our new ministry, Andrea and I sought out places where others have been and which have helped them to focus their thoughts and reflections. Stone circles, created 4000 years ago, standing stones, the Wicklow gap on the Pilgrim Road to the 6th Century Monastic City, high crosses and places, which for centuries have been associated with healing, have become places of pilgrimage. There was a very special evening when Andrea and I sought out the holy well near Avelin, which, like hundreds of wells in Ireland, was dedicated to St Bridget. It took some finding. A local man eventually remembered where it was. We eased open an old, creaking cast iron gate and picked our way along the semblance of a path through wild grasses and flowers. It had been a long time since anyone had walked that way. There was an ugly quarry on one side and the evening sun lit up a pleasant grassy hillside on the other. Then, there it was, surrounded by nettles, long grass and a few wild flowers.
So this was a holy well. From the edge, the water was still and offered a perfect reflection. A flat stone jutted into the well. As I stood on it, it wobbled. My reflection was shattered. There was a fragmented image as my eyes and heads and noses rippled to the edge. I was in bits, dismembered. I stood on the stonefor some time, until it stopped rocking.
When I was still the water calmed. I could see myself again
.
By St Bridget's well there is a stone altar. I wondered how many times people had gathered around it to celebrate the Eucharist where we face the wonder and awfulness of God's creation. Here we face reality - death in its horror and new life with its promise as we re- member the dis-membered body of Christ.
I recalled a visit to Laos, where, after a frightening road accident the villagers came together to minister to us. A symbolic meal was prepared, dominated by two beautiful and unusual flower arrangements on which hung cotton strands between the frangipani. After the meal the chief and elders, speaking in a language I did not understand, laid their hands on the table and then one by one took a cotton thread from the arrangement, and, looking into my eyes, tied the strands around my wrists. As they looked and tied they said something to me. My colleague and I said afterwards, "It felt a bit like Holy Communion" We knew that it had been a 'holy' experience. Weeks later, in the security of my home, I read about the ceremony and discovered that .."The Ba si ceremony aims to reunite your 32 guardian spirits with your 32 vital organs before or after a journey , an accident or time of illness." It was as if the villagers wanted to be sure that we were `together` `re-membered`, after our shattering experiences. At the well I felt myself re-membered.
Diffidently at first, I have taken bed and breakfast guests and retreatants to the well. They too have stood in holy places and touched the ancient stones. They have enjoyed time by themselves by the lakes and mountains of Co Wicklow to walk and sit and be. For them, as for us, the journey to Avelin has opened a new chapter in their lives. Of their time here they have written: " I have been re-membered." " I came with no expectations. I left with a feeling of renewal and joy." "It was a time of healing." "It was such a holy time". " I am glad my first trip to Ireland began at Avelin."
We come to God in bits, dismembered. We don't know if the bits can be made to fit in the way they used to. We offer our broken bits. We offer our broken society.
We ask God to re - member us.
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Michael Begg. B Sc. Counselling and psychotherapy. Tel. +353 (0) 45864524
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