Daily Primer — August 14, Iona — Inner Hebrides, Scotland

St. Columba, of course, in leaving Ireland for Scotland, knew exile only too well. He felt so deeply the pain of parting from his native country that he could say ‘the great cry of the people of Doire has broken my heart in four.’ And sitting on the headland of Iona, looking across the straits at the land from which he is now exiled, a poem that is ascribed to him speaks of what that parting has cost him. He writes with a depth of sadness of what he is leaving behind, for it is not only his earthly kin, family and friends, and the warmth and security of the small, close-knit community that bonded them, it is also the nonhuman, the land itself, nature, each leaf of the oaks he has known and loved, and not least the angels, of which Derry is full. So he says farewell to his native monastic home and makes his way toward the Islands of Alba, the early Scotland:

Great is the speed of my coracle,
And its stern turned upon Derry;
Grievous is my errand over the main,
Traveling to Alba of the beetling brows.
Were all Alba mine
From its centre to its border,
I would rather have the site of a house
In the middle of fair Derry.
It is for this I love Derry,
For its smoothness, for its purity;
All full of angels Is every leaf on the oaks of Derry.
My Derry, my little oak-grove,
My dwelling and my little cell,
O living God that art in Heaven above,
Woe to him who violates it!

Florilegium is the Medieval Latin word for bouquet, or more literally flowers (flos, flor-) which are gathered (legere). The word florilegium was used to refer to a compilation of writings, often religious or philosophical. These florilegium are literary flowers—beautiful words/prayers/thoughts I have gathered.  During my sabbatical they will give me something to ponder each day. — PHL.

Lord of light and life, we pause at mid-day with the sun high in the sky to offer ourselves again in worship and in service to you.  As the sun was given at creation to rule the day — so was the Son given to rule over all things.  At this hour we offer the labors of this day to you and seek your blessing for all that is good in them.
        We are mindful, Lord, that it was at this hour when you were crucified and gave up your life in sacrifice for a sinful world.  As the world was plunged into darkness at the hour of your forsakenness, so we today grope in the darkness of our failures to claim you and love you faithfully always.  Though you come to us as the light of the world, we, like those who came before us, all too often prefer the darkness to the light.  And so in penitence we acknowledge:

Our sins of commission . . .

Our sins of omission . . .

And offer you our prayers of contrition . . .

       Lord, accept the offering of our very selves as a living and holy sacrifice to you.  We thank you for the liberty given to us in Jesus, the Christ, which enables us to put away the things which pertain to darkness and join him in glorious light.  We feel your pleasure in our successes and rededicate our labors for the remainder of this day to your glory.  Make us courageous in acts of compassion, sagacious in words of encouragement, faithful in our friendships, and toward all cultivate in us a holy love which reflects the will of your heart.  Amen.

We praise you, God, for setting the sun to rule the day and moon to rule the night and for setting the stars and planets on their courses.  From the hot brilliance of the sun to the deep dark of space, you are God.  In you all things hold together and have their meaning.  Accept our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving for the gift of light:

† For flashing forks of lightning and shimmering seas of sunlight . . .

† For divine epiphany when our souls are enlightened . . .

† For the soft glow of candlelight and the brilliant furnace of a refiner’s fire . . .

† For lighthouse beams and lanterns in windows . . .

† For your word — a lamp unto our path . . .

Now as we come to the setting of the sun and our world is bathed in vesper light, we are grateful not only for the gift of the day but for the promise of rest in the coming night.  In mercy you desire for us a time of rest, when we put aside our anxious toil and relax in your embrace.  In returning and in rest is our salvation.
For the the times we have behaved like lost sheep today, as if we had no gate-keeper, we seek your forgiveness even as we forgive others at this hour.  For the times when we behaved as those who know your voice and who followed, we offer you thanks.  Aware of our propensity to lose our way and of your merciful commitment to leave the ninety-nine in search of the lost one, we end our day glad to be in the fold of your care.
Help us, Lord, who have followed you throughout the day, to continue to follow you in the hours of gloaming.  As we gather up our day and prepare to give it into your care, help us to be gentle with ourselves and with others.  Preserve us from sin and grant to us a restful night and peace at the last in  your kingdom, where you live and reign with Jesus Christ, your Son, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever.  Amen.