They came to brush shoulders with their clan at the historic First Presbyterian, Dunedin, Florida. It was The Kirkin’ o’ The Tartans and grown men wiped tears from their eyes as they held their breath during the procession of the flag and the banners of the clans of Stewart, Pride of Scotland, Scott, Wallace, Fraser and McLeod. Marching proudly behind them were the members of St. Andrews Pipes and Drums of Tampa Bay and the sound of the drums reached the rafters and then echoed to the beat of our won hearts while the pipes made our souls soar with memories as we sang “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee.”
Memories carried forward on the legend that Scots were once forbidden to wear tartans, so they often wore swatches of plaid cloth hidden under their clothing when they went to church.
But the tartans weren’t hidden on Sunday, April 13, 2008. Kilts, tams, sashes and pieces of tartans treasured in lockets were worn openly and with pride. That Sunday you were either Scots or wannabe Scots.
The presence of those who have gone before us was felt. Our parents, grandparents and those brave hearts that once stood at our backs rejoiced as we listened to the choir and to Amy Collins play the oboe to the welcoming lament of the song “The Lord is my shepherd.” The tears flowed as those of us remembered that the last time we heard that song was at the funeral of a loved one.
In a pew next to me was a dear friend all six foot five inches of him attached to his oxygen tank. Bill Koehler, a retired minister, is as familiar with Psalm 23 as he is with the lineup of the Green Bay Packers. But on this Sunday, I didn’t want to think about where we’d be the next time we heard this Psalm. I should have known better.
Rev. Victoria ByRoade preached a sermon that would have made the dead rise if they hadn’t already been in the room. She gave us a vision of three images: the sheep, the shepherd and the sheep pen.
“Jesus says that the good shepherd calls the sheep by name. The shepherd talks to them, sings to them and leads them because there is a loving relationship between them. It is worthwhile to stay alive and wait in that holding place because they know that sooner or later the shepherd’s life-giving voice will come. They know that when the shepherd comes they will be led to green pastures. They know that at night the shepherd would lay his body down in the only opening in to or out of that pen. No sheep ever goes out but across the shepherd’s body and no wolf comes in unless he crosses the body of the shepherd. The shepherd then becomes the door.”
At that moment, Rev. ByRoade helped us understand that Jesus is both the shepherd and the gate and that, we, the most vulnerable must be gathered and guarded.
No sooner than we thought we were done with the crying when the bagpipers laid into us with the heartbreaking song “Amazing Grace” and we all felt wretched with sin at the beginning and grateful for forgiveness by the end of it.
Pastor ByRoade stepped forward and movingly blessed the tartans and clans of the Kirk while husbands bowed their heads and put their arms around the shoulders of their wives and little ones.
And our ancestors who came in clouds as witnesses slipped quietly away while the bagpipers played Scotland the Brave.
The rest of us stayed and celebrated the faith of our fathers over a cup of tea and the hand of friendship for all of us had been extended to following welcome:
If after kirk ye bide a wee
There’s some wad like to speak to ye.
If after kirk ye rise and flee,
We’ll all seem cold and stiff to ye.
Is stranger here than ye? May be.
All here had got their fears and care;
Add your soul unto our prayers.
Be our angels unawares.
Mary Lee Moynan
Callander, Ont.
