St Andrew's Glenelg looks to St Brendan?

St Brendan is chiefly renowned for his legendary journey to The Isle of the Blessed (also called Tír na nÓg) as described in the ninth century Voyage of St Brendan the Navigator. Many versions exist, that tell of how he set out onto the Atlantic Ocean with sixty pilgrims^[1] (other versions have fourteen, plus three unbelievers who join at the last minute), searching for the Garden of Eden. If it happened, this would have occurred in around 530, before his travel to the island of Great Britain. On his trip, Brendan is supposed to have seen a blessed island covered with vegetation. He also encountered a sea monster, an adventure he shared with his contemporary St. Columba. (from Wikipedia)

Given our location, so close to the beach, there are some good images for us here at St. Andrew's to ponder. Taking inspiration from St Brendan who knelt on the beach before setting sail in his small leather boat and trusting the wind of God's spirit to blow him where the spirit willed, there is a challenge for us at St. Andrew's Glenelg to kneel before God and then set sail in mission. To bid farewell to the practices of the past that we hold on to because they are of the past and are well known and comforting to us, the known and fixed ways of doing things. To be on about leaving the comforts of the known and to trust ourselves afresh to God. Perhaps like St. Brendan we should make our mark in the sand NOW and sail off to where and what God calls us.

St Brendan's Prayer

Shall I abandon, O King of mysteries, the soft comforts of home? Shall I turn my back on my native land, and turn my face towards the sea?

Shall I put myself wholly at your mercy, without silver, without a horse, without fame, without honour? Shall I throw myself wholly upon You, without sword and shield, without food and drink, without a bed to lie on? Shall I say farewell to my beautiful land, placing myself under Your yoke?

Shall I pour out my heart to You, confessing my manifold sins and begging forgiveness, tears streaming down my cheeks? Shall I leave the prints of my knees on the sandy beach, a record of my final prayer in my native land?

Shall I then suffer every kind of wound that the sea can inflict? Shall I take my tiny boat across the wide sparkling ocean? O King of the Glorious Heaven, shall I go of my own choice upon the sea?

O Christ, will You help me on the wild waves?