Serial The Anointed: 13. Wild Camping With John In Scotland

A silhouette of a man lifting his hands in worship against a backdrop of an evening sky. Next to this man are the words: "The Anointed - a faith-based serial." — Follow along with this thrilling serial about the highs and lows of Pastor John.

I’ve agreed to take John with me on a retreat to Scotland. But did I make the right decision?

In the departure hall of Baltimore International Airport, I meet John at the agreed time. He bought all his gear new this week. Both of us with backpacks just under twenty kilos, we get checked in. We fly to Glasgow, where we take a bus to the Scottish Highlands. In the town of Fort William, we have to change to a local train to the port town of Mallaig, where we’ll catch the ferry the day after tomorrow.

‘It seems he’s completely given up on behaving like a mature spiritual man.’

With fish and chips in hand and our heavy backpacks on, we run to the station to catch the train in time. Panting, we enter the carriage. “I haven’t done this in years,” John gasps. As we stow our bags and sit down, a girl sits opposite us. I see John looking. He was flirting with the flight attendant on the plane, too. It annoys me. I try to distract him before he starts flirting with her, but John is not deterred. He offers her his fries and openly flirts with her. When she leaves the carriage a bit later, John whistles after her. “Did you see her sexy butt!”

It’s like I’m traveling with a teenager. What have I gotten myself into? It seems he’s completely given up on behaving like a mature spiritual man. It’s as if he’s letting himself go. Like it’s a lost cause anyway. What’s going on in his mind? We’ve agreed beforehand that there will be no drinking on our trip, but seeing him like this, I don’t know if he can stick to it. Luckily, we’re going to two uninhabited islands where there are no women or alcohol. I hope to have some good conversations with him over the next few days.

‘John shrugs. Are you always this virtuous? Don’t you ever look at other women? Don’t you ever think about what it would be like to…’

When we arrive in Mallaig at midnight, it’s pouring rain. There’s no camping site in the village to set up our tent. Our ferry leaves in seven hours. We find a school’s overhang where we can lie down dry. John gets to sleep in his sleeping bag against the door, the most protected spot. I lie on the outside. Occasionally, the wind turns and I get wet from the rain. I dive deep into my sleeping bag. John quickly falls into a deep sleep. I can’t sleep. Have I made a huge mistake bringing John along?

Our alarm goes off at six in the morning. The boat leaves in an hour, but within ten minutes everything is packed and we’re ready. With our backpacks on, we head to the harbor. It’s raining heavily, but it’s not a far walk. Onboard the ship, there’s a small restaurant. Soon, we’re sitting down to a warm breakfast. The journey to the island of Canna takes about five hours. There’s a strong wind and the boat rocks heavily.

‘Believe me, you really don’t want to know what’s going on inside me!’

After breakfast, we head to the deck, where we feel less seasick. I tell John that I noticed him flirting with several women yesterday and that it surprised me. John just shrugs. “Are you always this virtuous? Don’t you ever look at other women? Don’t you ever think about what it would be like to…”

A large wave hits the boat and we have to hold on tight. I shake my head. “Is that a no to the water in your face or to my question?” “Both! I’m not virtuous, but I try to interact with people as purely as possible.” “Well, then you’re better than me. Happy now?” I realize this is not the way to start a conversation with John. “It’s not about who’s better, I’m just curious about what’s going on inside you.” John starts laughing. “Believe me, you really don’t want to know what’s going on inside me! Can we talk about something else?”

‘Canna is a small island of two by seven kilometers with only twenty inhabitants. The sand is pure white, and the sea is crystal blue. It’s a magical place with a stunning view.’

It gets cold on deck. I find a bench inside where I can lie down and fall asleep. After a few hours, the wind dies down and the sun breaks through. The view is breathtaking. We sail past the mountain ridges of the Isle of Skye, still covered in snow. Occasionally, a dolphin swims past the ship. On the horizon, we can see Canna. It’s a small island of two by seven kilometers with only twenty inhabitants. As the boat docks, we only have to walk a kilometer to reach a secluded bay. I camped here with my brother ten years ago. The sand is pure white, and the sea is crystal blue. It’s a magical place with a stunning view.

The isle of Canna looking out to the isle of Rum (image courtesy of Canva)

‘Is this an interrogation or what? Can you stop with that crap?’

We set up our tents. Fortunately, it’s still too early in the year for midges, so we can comfortably sit outside. Water is boiled and within minutes we’re eating our instant meals. It’s strange sitting here in the wilderness with John. Essentially, we’re strangers to each other. We’ve chatted about trivial things several times today, but I would like to have a real conversation with John. I try, but when I ask him how things are between him and God, he immediately reacts hostilely. “Is this an interrogation or what? Can you stop with that crap?” It gets cold, so we head to our warm sleeping bags. I resolve not to ask any more difficult questions, but just to spend time together.

This morning we got up early to walk around the entire island. A wild nine-hour hike through nature. We saw everything from eagles and seals to an otter. We sit exhausted by our tents in the afternoon. John is piercing blisters under his feet while I’m boiling tea.

‘”I don’t have to work ever again, I’m financially set for life.” As I hear him say this with a laugh, something in me breaks.’

“Do you have any plans for the future?” I ask him. “Well, at least I don’t have to work anymore. I’m financially set for life,” he says with a laugh. As I hear him say this, something in me breaks. “No, and you know why you’re set? Because you’ve abused people for thirty years who broke their backs to give you their last pennies. People who went deep into debt because you convinced them that your ministry was worth going into debt for. People who took out a second mortgage on their homes to pay for your TV shows and who now have to pay off debts for the next twenty years for someone they no longer believe in and who deeply disappointed them. I can’t imagine that you took out a second mortgage on your villa or sold your house in Portugal to help pay for all those expenses.”

‘I despise a lot of things you’ve done in the name of Jesus over the past thirty years. I don’t know if that automatically means I despise you.’

John looks at me silently. “No, I didn’t think so. Nice and safe! Others manipulated to do so while you stay safely on the side. Not to mention the miserable salaries you paid your staff while you and Annelies pulled thousands of euros out of the congregation every month. Did you know there were pastors who wanted to support your children’s workers because they got so little from you? No, you didn’t know that, did you! But they didn’t do it because they were afraid their extra money would go straight into the congregation. Because they were convinced that your children’s workers were so indoctrinated by you that they would give the money to you, which wouldn’t surprise me, and these pastors didn’t want to invest in you.”

One of the amazing Scottish beaches (image courtesy of Canva)

John looks at me sadly: “I didn’t know you thought this way about me. Why did you bring me on this trip if you clearly despise me so much?” “John, I’ve thought this way about you for years. You should know what I’ve heard about you. I brought you because I thought… No, because I think this will be good for you. I despise a lot of things you’ve done in the name of Jesus over the past thirty years. I don’t know if that automatically means I despise you. But I do know that you still don’t clearly see the damage you’ve caused over all those years.”

‘John starts packing his stuff. I’ve heard enough! I won’t take this, especially not from you. What have you achieved with your little church of thirty people?’

John starts packing his stuff. “I’ve heard enough. I won’t take this, especially not from you. What have you achieved with your little church of thirty people? What’s your annual income? Who are you to say I’ve caused damage? You were a pathetic little man in Amsterdam thirty years ago, and I felt sorry for you. Now I just feel it even more.”

I start laughing. Here we are, two grown men on an uninhabited island, almost coming to blows.

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Matt Vlaardingerbroek, a former seasoned church planter and pastor in Holland’s inner cities, brings Bible stories to life through ventriloquism and magic. He’s authored three books, and founded www.creativekidswork.com, providing over 1,500 innovative Sunday school activities worldwide.

Serial The Anointed: 13. Wild Camping With John in Scotland