Scotland Travels: Sunday Sabbath

Today - day 9 of 10 - I FINALLY made good on what was to have been the point of this trip, which was just pure relaxation! Before leaving home I had envisioned hanging out in Princes Street Gardens or The Meadows and reading - reading in a gorgeous, evocative, and engaging location - but relaxing and reading nonetheless. Instead of one of those places I had envisioned, I ended up in St. Andrew's Square, which was a great choice as well. I joined the other folks enjoying a sunny spring day at the park - absolutely perfect temperature, just wonderful!

On both of my previous trips I'd been past this square but never took time to walk through it or even stop on the edge and check it out at all. (Rather than living in the moment, I'm always "on a mission" it seems!) In the center of St. Andrew's Square is the Melville Monument, which is 150 feet tall is visible from all around. It was inspired by Trajan's Column in Rome.

Here is a view of it as I reclined on the lawn and looked up. :-)

I spent some time watching birds, bugs and clouds fly by. It was so warm, peaceful and relaxing (a far cry from busy, rainy Wednesday!)

I spent about an hour on the lawn reading. It was just delightful!

Earlier in the day I had stopped in at the Scottish National Gallery.

I'll include a couple of what I consider the most iconic pieces in the collection (though inside are also da Vinci, Gaugin, Monet, Constable, Rembrant, Rubens, Titian, El Greco, Botticelli, etc.). I hope my dog-loving friends will appreciate this first painting, both its subject and its story. The name of the dog in the portrait is Callum, and he belonged to James Cowan Smith. In 1919, Smith bequeathed 52,257 pounds to the gallery (about $2,000,000 in today's money) with one condition: that the portrait of his beloved Callum, a Dandie Dinmount Terrier, should be put on permanent display. As The Scotsman newspaper observed at the time, " . . . there is something touching in a man making acceptance of a favourite terrier the sole condition of a great bequest." And so, for the past 100 years now, every visitor has seen Smith's beloved terrier Callum.

Also, somehow, the painting Reverend Robert Walker (1755-1808) Skating on Duddingston Loch never fails to capture my imagination. It seems rather incongruous: somber, playful and serene all at the same time.

The gallery space is lovely.

I don't consider this next piece by a 17th century Dutch artist to be iconic to this gallery, but I do have a friend (my organ teacher, actually) who is currently traveling in the Netherlands. He has been playing organs along the way, and he may yet play at St. Bavo, Haarlem's Grote Kerk, before he returns home. St. Bavo has a world-renowned organ. He and I have been keeping in touch through messaging about our playing experiences, and then I saw this today in the gallery. I'm hoping he sends me a video of his playing if he does get a chance at this one. (I also have an acquaintance traveling in Jerusalem who plays the same organ I do back home and who is playing organs in Jerusalem! So there are at least 3 of us out here with experience on the same organ, playing our way across different continents! This is a fun club to be part of!)

Just after sunset tonight I wandered over to Lochrin Basin, which is part of the Union Canal system. It was a good time of day to see it - nice reflections. It's very close to where I'm staying. I'd walked past it once but hadn't had time to explore, and today/tonight were quite leisurely.

That is the end of my day, but my day, Sunday, began in the kirk, Greyfriar's Kirk. "In my end is my beginning." I didn't want to post about that first because I have posted so much about Greyfriar's already, yet it was very different to experience Greyfriar's as a worshiper, as a part of the congregation, rather than as a tourist gawking at the stained glass and organ pipes and taking dozens of pictures. (I still took SOME pictures, but not dozens - and not during worship.)

This church looks far more modern to me than the kirks made of dark stone, of which I have seen so many, and yet this church was built in 1620, and from early drawings of it that I saw in the museum the other day, I know it to have looked like this from the beginning. It has such a long history - the Covenanters having been dealing with Charles II and James II of England - later Sir Walter Scott having worshiped here as a young man. The year this kirk was built,1620, is the year the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock in the U.S.

While touring I was not allowed up to see the organ, but I had easy access today. The organist was closing things down, and I didn't get a chance to play, but I did get a chance to see it and to speak with the organist about its features - every organ being such a unique instrument.

A photo up close and person with the pipes:

View from the organ loft/choir loft:

I loved the service today, especially given that the first hymn was Praise My Soul the King of Heaven, which was sung with gusto by the congregation, some not even looking at the hymnbooks as they sang. It actually brought me to tears - in a good way. I've been to 4 worship services, each in a different church, since I've been in Edinburgh and have loved every one of them (two Episcopal and two Presbyterian). In each of the services, there was much admonition about reaching out to the community in love and acceptance - showing the love of Christ, especially to those who are different from us - about dropping our arrogance and pride - and also about caring for our world (including our environment/climate, caring for the creation God has entrusted to us). And I know from what I hear here and from what I see taking place in their spaces that they are living this out.

In every service vestments have been worn, there's been either a processional or an introit. Hymns were sung. Hymnbooks were used. There were no screens and no praise team (sorry David - I love you!). Organ was the only instrument. And there was no chaotic hubbub and shaking of hands mid-service - everyone mingled and was very friendly BEFORE and AFTER the service with no crazy/forced time of greeting in the middle of it. It was all very dignified, yet very down-to-earth - very traditional, while at the same time very rooted in genuinely loving outreach and care for the "other," for the downtrodden, and for the hurting. In every service The Apostle's Creed was said in unison, which made me feel very much a part of Christ's body, the church universal. It's been very cool! It's "funny" how at home we also have a traditional/modern blend, but it's flip-flopped from the above. It's my own personal taste, I guess, but I REALLY like this! (Oh, and also in each service, the congregation sat back down and listened to the organ postlude instead of walking out talking over the music. I also like that.)

OK, so I was back at Greyfriar's, as you know, and it is surrounded by a very large kirkyard, so even more funerary art caught my eye, and here it is:

I know I've captured lots of skulls, but what I like is that they're all unique.

I hadn't seen anything quite like this before:

Just over Flodden Wall from the kirkyard you can see Heriot's School, which is part of J. K. Rowling's inspiration for Hogwarts in Harry Potter. It is at the base of the castle, to the south of the castle.