Ian Ellis: A refreshing religious and spiritual visit to the Holy island of Lindisfarne

It is situated off the north-east coast of England.

Of course, I knew it was a holy island, and that was indeed among my reasons for going there.

In the 7th century, St Aidan, originally from Ireland, founded a monastery on Lindisfarne, having moved there from Iona to do the work of evangelism.

It was the centre for his missionary outreach around Northumbria and is understood to have been built where the present Church of England church is situated.

Lindisfarne, which has a small village, a castle and Norman priory ruins, is also associated with the seventh century St Cuthbert, the patron saint of Northumbria.

It was here that the circa early eighth century manuscript known as The Lindisfarne Gospels originated. It is considered the finest illustrated manuscript to survive from Anglo-Saxon England and is now housed at the British Library in London.

At any rate, my visit to Lindisfarne was certainly a real experience.

This was so for all sorts of reasons but first, in terms of the unfolding of those four hours spent in the place, was the physical approach to the island.To be precise, it is both an island, and not an island.

That is so because, depending on the tide, it is sometimes completely surrounded by water, and at other times is not.When it is not surrounded by water, the visitor – or pilgrim – can drive along a causeway, come to a car park and then explore the historic and sacred location on foot.

Before setting forth in my car along the causeway, there were signs indicating danger and advising that driving on the narrow roadway should only be between certain times, which can vary unexpectedly because of weather conditions affecting the tides.

If left stranded on the island, it would not be a total disaster because, of course, eventually the tide would go out and the road would reappear.

Even so, as I drove along the narrow causeway, with the flat and sandy terrain all around, I had a certain nervous feeling, knowing that the sea totally engulfs and submerges this roadway every day.

My slight nervousness was not helped by the appearance of a rescue hut on stilts in the middle of the crossing, let alone the residue of sea water from the previous high tide lapping close at the edges of the road.

It is true that everyone lives with danger in different guises but a heightened awareness of the fragility of life certainly concentrates the mind.

No doubt the religious people who built their monasteries in remote places were seeking the peace that can be found in detachment from life in the wider world.

But perhaps there was also the intention of living somehow on the edge of life itself, in order to heighten spiritual awareness.

A recent editorial comment in The Guardian newspaper indicated that, given the growing number of people following pilgrim routes, “something is working”.

The phenomenon is, perhaps, indicative of the current wide interest in spirituality, in a broad sense, as opposed to organised religion.

So the Guardian pointed to some reasons why people nowadays make these journeys, such as walking the famous Camino de Santiago in Spain.

The editorial referred to some pilgrims choosing to hike for charity, or to leave a dark period in their lives behind, or to walk in memory of a loved one, or to take in the glories of the landscape, or simply to clear their minds.

No doubt some particularly devout pilgrims make their journeys only to pray, but clearly many others will take on the same journey for other reasons.

This brings us to the distinction between pilgrimage and tourism which, however, is perhaps not as clear cut as might at first appear to be the case.

My own motivation in visiting Lindisfarne is probably best described as a mixture.

I was interested first and foremost because of its religious associations, but also because of its geography and landscape, and because of the more ordinary recreation of simply going there.

I did not pray every step of the way, but I did find the visit a definitely religious, spiritual and generally refreshing experience.

Many tourists visit historic churches. Some of those travellers will come out of pure curiosity, or to admire the architecture and ponder the history, but may well find themselves moved more deeply and offer a simple prayer, maybe for the first time in a long time.

It all tells of the human instinct to reach beyond oneself.

One distinction between religion and spirituality lies in how religion is about a shared creed, while spirituality is a more individual matter.

The former is formal and based on developed doctrines while the latter is much more flexible.

It seems to me that there are dangers to be aware of in both.

Dogmatism can easily lead to divisions, while individualism can miss out on fellowship that comes from shared belief.

On Lindisfarne, I certainly found a sense of common purpose among those who were there, however much their motivations for coming may have varied.

• Canon Ian Ellis is a former editor of The Church of Ireland Gazette