Noon Dublin time is approaching and I am in the waiting area of the Dublin airport listening for an announcement regarding my delayed flight to the USA. The good part is that when leaving Dublin many times you can go through US Immigration at the airport, so when arriving in the US you do not have to go through that process. That plus Global Entry status makes the lines much easier and shorter…So I will use this time to compose this blog entry.

Part 1: Ireland

At the end of June I began two months of service to four small Presbyterian Church of Ireland churches—Newbliss, Clones, Ballyhobridge, and Stonebridge. I knew the experience would be different from the previous six years on the island, and I was right. It was different and wonderful. The churches were located on the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland (UK), and had gone through some interesting and difficult experiences in the Times of Troubles. But all that has changed and the area is peaceful. In fact one symbol of the times is that one of the churches is actually in the North, while the other three are in the Republic. And as the border is very transparent and highly irregular, on one short ten mile drive near our house we began in the Republic, crossed into the North, crossed back into the Republic, crossed back into the North, then ended at our destination in the Republic. One road, straight, and short…

The churches are in the Monaghan area, a part of Ireland known for its dairy products—and the people were almost all farming people. They were gracious, friendly, and hard-working—tied to the milking of the cows, raising chickens, the cutting of silage, and the vagaries of the weather (which was wonderful-the best weather in anyone’s memory).

In addition to preaching on Sundays I initiated a Sunday evening gathering where we began with studying parables but moved wherever questions led. And the highlight for me was visiting… I was able to call on and be welcomed into almost every family home in the four churches. Unannounced, but shuttled by George or Gerald, two key leaders in the churches, I chatted, drank tea or coffee, and ate innumerable scones or buns around kitchen tables or in sitting rooms. I learned about the people, the place, and farming…And was blessed.

Nancy and I lived in a small attached workers’ cottage on the main (and only) street of Newbliss. Situated there we were able to get to know almost everyone in the town who either ran or owned the corner store, the chip shop, and the butcher—the only retail businesses in town apart from three pubs. We had chances to talk about the lives of the people, and they asked about ours and the churches we served. While there is a divide between the Protestant and the Catholic communities, I sensed no hostility only curiosity and a genuine desire to know more. While recent history has focused on these divisions, it is important to remember that both Catholics and Presbyterians were equally disenfranchised for centuries, and both suffered equally under the Anglican establishment. In fact one of the churches, the Stonebridge church, is situated where it is because when it was built in the 1700s it was illegal to build a Presbyterian church within two miles of any town. So it was the Clones town church but out in the country.

The churches that I served stand as monuments to rugged endurance, often that of just a few families but always for many years. Farming in this part of the country has been hard and unattractive to newcomers, and the border troubles have been difficult, so the Protestant population and church attendance has declined dramatically over the past generation. But those who have stayed are now seeing a happier time as farms prosper and the religious divide subsides. The peoples’ faith and culture are closely intertwined, and history is important, but I found an openness to the strange ways of a strange American, and a desire to see the church grow. I firmly believe that the churches of Ireland, and particularly those in the Republic, have much potential for spreading the gospel as they seek new and creative ways that move beyond a label to the core of the good news—Christ.

When Nancy and I began this kind of ministry seven years ago there was an under-supply of pastors for churches in Ireland. That has, by the grace of God, changed as more are responding to the call to ministry, so that there is now an adequate supply. This is good news for the church in Ireland, but means that the need for what we have been doing is less. If that is the case it may mean that this year was a final one for us in this role. If so, we could not have had a happier experience for the ending.

Part 2: Cycling 

On September 1 Brian Magowan and I took off on what is turning out to be an annual event, a bike tour. Our plans had been to cycle through the Italian, Swiss and French Alps, going over some of the highest passes in Europe, including many of those featured in the Tour de France. However, on reconsideration and a moment of sanity, we decided to change—not to the easiest trek but to one that was a bit less demanding. In the end we did do some Alpine cycling, but most of the time was in central Italy, Sardinia and Corsica.

Our trip began in Bergamo, Italy, Ryanair’s Milan airport. The first day cycling we made our way into the Alps around Lake Como, arriving late in the day at what is known as the Cyclists’ Chapel, a chapel just above Bellagio that has been officially dedicated and consecrated to cycling by the Pope.

The next day we descended into Bellagio and by ferry and train made our way to Modena, Italy.
From there we cycled to Lucca and then Livorno, took the ferry to Olbia, Sardinia, then cycled north through the Costa Smeralda of Sardinia. After a short ferry to Bonifacio, Corsica, we cycled up to the center of the island then down the other side. Next we followed the coast road north to Calvi and L’Ile Rousse, where we took a ferry to Nice and caught the plane back to Dublin.

Having chosen to bypass the heights of the Alps, we still found plenty of hills, passes, and long hauls. The central area of Italy is divided from Tuscany by a rather high range of mountains, and we went over them. And Sardinia and Corsica are both simply made up of a mountain range that sticks up out of the sea. There is nothing particularly dramatic to report on such a ride, except that each day was a challenge and each day had its rewards. The scenery was fantastic as we went over high passes and as we pedaled hundreds of meters above the blue sea as it crashed into rocks creating inaccessible coves. The Tour de France began this, its 100^th year, in Corsica, and locals are certain that the sights that were seen by millions will bring a flood of new visitors next year. I am sure they are right.

So, the good news is that as I approach my 70^th birthday God continues to enable me to enjoy his creation in this manner. As I go along mile by mile and minute by minute I am grateful. And I marvel at what God has made!! As the Psalmist wrote long ago, For you make me glad by your deeds, O LORD; I sing for joy at the works of your hands. Psalm 92:4.