Some Things I learned in Iceland

a travel post for subscribers

The one and only Rev. jodi Houge. (not pictured: our sweet friend Jacqueline Bussie who has her own devastating and beautiful story about Iceland she will be sharing in an upcoming book)

I was mostly over the jetlag by the time I stood up to speak at the clergy conference in Reykjavik. Mostly.

My best friend Jodi had just spoken about leading a scrappy little church of anxious people in St Paul during the Summer of 2020 when George Floyd was murdered and businesses were burning and military helicopters were circling. Knowing that Iceland has no mass shootings, no history of race-based chattel slavery, no genocidal treatment of indigenous people, the first thing I said when I stood up was “Um…having Americans come to Iceland to offer lectures on spirituality feels like inviting members of a leper colony to come to a health spa to talk to you about wellness.”

The day before our conference started, I attended Mass at the Lutheran Cathedral in Reykjavik. I of course could not understand a word, but other than the sermon and prayers, nearly everything else was sung. Beautifully sung, I might add. And the organist knew how to play so that human voices could be heard (praise God…and let’s get her on a teaching tour here). Listening to their absolutely beautiful Icelandic hymns and liturgy, I was struck by the thought that there have been people singing hymns to Christ for over 1,000 years on that little volcanic rock that sits alone North of most everyone else on the planet. Over a thousand years of their distinctly Icelandic hymns being sung to God.

What do I possibly have to offer them??

Because America bad, Iceland good. Right?