Celtic Adventures with Ornitheologists

A Retreat with Even Sparrows

The woman next to me on the plane paused in confusion.

We’d taken our seats and had been exchanging the initial pleasantries of “So what brings you to England?” Coming-or-going, business-or-pleasure, that sort of thing. So I said I was a pastor on sabbatical and was flying to Edinburgh to attend a spiritual retreat in Northumberland.

“Oh, like a church history retreat?”

“No. It’s about faith and birdwatching.”

Insert awkward pause here.

Ever since I booked this trip, whenever I’ve excitedly tried to explain it to others, I’ve gotten that same hesitant silence often enough to begin to anticipate it. I can understand the social hiccup because, as far as I know, there’s nothing else like this retreat on the planet. When Mark Winter led his first Even Sparrows retreat in 2004, it was the experimental fusion of his newly established guiding business (Birdwatch Northumbria) and his friendship with co-leader Adrian Hughes, an Anglican priest. Since then, Mark (often with his wife Sheila) has led almost fifty weekend retreats offering guided birdwatching, Christian worship, and reflections on birds in the Bible.

Hunting for Rock Pipits with Mark Winter

Even Sparrows takes its name from verses such as Matthew 10:29-31, where Jesus assures us that even the sparrow is valuable in the sight of God — how much more so God’s children? The goal of Even Sparrows is “to encourage people to appreciate birds and other wildlife as created and God-given.” Mark desires that his retreats will help people simply enjoy watching birds, and promote healthy Christian stewardship of our natural environment.

What I love about Mark is watching his enthusiasm for people. It’s not just about birdwatching; when he’s in the field, Mark’s attentive to watching people watch birds — helping them see what he sees and enjoying a person’s wonder at their first Bar-Tailed Godwit, Northern Fulmar, or Eurasian Skylark. “I simply love showing birds to people and relish those moments when people exclaim with delight, ‘I see it!’” I did that a lot, honestly. For me, even the most basic British birds were potential lifers, and Mark took it as a personal goal to score me as many as possible. He’s unbelievably bird-knowledgeable, worth his weight in feathers, and I finished my time in the UK with ninety-three species — forty-four of them lifers.

But we also prayed and reflected on God’s goodness together. Mark led our group in morning, mid-day, and evening prayers and reflections, borrowing from Scripture, song, and Celtic-influenced prayers and resources. Mark is the author of the book Look at the Birds of the Air, which organizes and explains the myriad references to birds in the Bible. These musings found their way into our group devotional times, as we considered the biblical portrayal of eagles, owls, or sparrows over afternoon tea. Mark drew in legends and lore from church history, like St. Cuthbert’s ravens or St. Kevin’s blackbirds (yes, there’s a St. Kevin, and yes, he has a bird story…). And sometimes, after a nice stretch of shorebirding, Mark would simply exhort us all to five minutes of silence to take in the scenery and give thanks to God. Birds were the means; the glory of the Lord is the end.

Although Even Sparrows retreats have occurred at several Christian retreat centers (like Launde Abbey in Leicestershire, and Kilmalieu in Scotland), the majority of Mark’s retreats take place on Holy Island, a significant location in Celtic church history, as well as a stunningly diverse birding hotspot. Holy Island, A.K.A. Lindisfarne — only accessible at low tide — was the beachhead from which Christianity was reintroduced to England in the 7^th century via Irish monks from Iona. St. Aidan and St. Cuthbert ministered here, and the Venerable Bede (author of a significant history of the early church in England) labored nearby. It’s the origin of the Lindisfarne Gospels, a famously ornate Biblical manuscript of the four gospels beautifully illustrated by Celtic monks. The island, only three miles long at its most generous width, is packed with more history than an average American like me even knows what to do with. Layers of history. There’s the footings of an ancient church from the 700s, the ruins of a Durham-inspired cathedral from the 1100s, a high-towering castle from the 1500s, and anti-tank barricades from World War II.

The religious communities on Holy Island work together to provide regular hours of prayer throughout the day, allowing tourists, pilgrims, and local residents (population: 180) to join together in prayer. I stuck around a couple extra days after the retreat for some solo time, and took advantage of these Celtic-inspired liturgies. Yep, I also birdwatched some more.

During those extra days, I met several other people on solo retreats to the island, sitting around the dinner table together for a meal or at the local pub for a pint. One Anglican priest was there for his fourth visit, and I asked what kept him coming back. He said, “Well, if I could dream up the perfect location for a spiritual retreat, it would probably be an island of some sort, maybe only accessible at low tide to keep the tourists manageable. There would be a castle on it. There’d maybe be some cathedral ruins to explore, and lots of quiet footpaths to walk and think and pray. There’d be a place where I could just sit and read all day, or scheduled times to go and pray with others. The weather would be brisk but comfortable, and the scenery would be stunning.”

I laughed. “Add birds to that list, and it’s my perfect place too.”

In other words, for ornitheologists like me and (I presume) you, Mark Winter runs the perfect retreat for the perfect place. I highly recommend the experience.

You can find out more about Mark's retreats at evensparrows.co.uk or e-mail him at evensparrows@gmail.com.

Lindisfarne Castle

Northern Fulmar on the cliffs

Ruins of the Lindisfarne Priory, modeled after Durham Cathedral in the 1100s

One of many Eurasian Oystercatchers on the Holy Island coast

Bird Art on the Holy Island coast, © 2022 Allan Maciver (Flickr)