I have flirted with Celtic Christianity. I use the word flirt, a word from romantic love, because I feel a lush attraction to all things Celtic. I am just a little bit in love with St. Brigid. She inspires me because of the way she so effortlessly became a Christian but stayed a Celt.
But let me share my journey of discovery of St. Brigid before I tell you more about her. Because it wasn’t straightforward, I am unsure what to do with my newfound admiration. I suppose the best love stories aren’t necessarily straight and narrow.
The journey to St. Brigid began with a feeling of longing. I grew up in the Northwest, mainly in Northern Oregon and Southern Washington. I love these mountains and forests; I could worship these hills. But how, practically, do you do that? It’s something I have pondered. It’s one thing to feel a deep and glorious connection every time I see Mt. Hood shining in the sun. It’s another to build a spirituality around it.
In the Northwest, we have a local example of place-based spirituality. Northwest Native Americans connect to the salmon and native plants they gather at different times of the year. They have an embodied faith built up over time and transmitted generationally through their elders.
It’s complicated, though, for a white girl to participate in Native American spirituality. According to my mother’s lore, my ancestors came around the horn on a clipper ship. They settled in Battleground, Washington (named after an unfortunate encounter between a local settler militia and some Klickitat tribe members). I figured, upon consideration, that my best move was to be respectful of Native American traditions and look elsewhere for my natural religion.
In the ‘looking elsewhere,’ I stumbled onto Celtic spirituality. The Celts are as close as I get to indigenous roots. The branch of the family that came around the horn in a clipper – they were Irish. Ireland was where Celtic Spirituality held on almost into the modern era. It’s now in revival as a branch of Paganism and infused into some Christian denominations. Episcopalians especially are embracing Celtic spirituality.
Revivals are tricky. I am not the only one with longings. There is a deep hunger for a spirituality that honors nature and place. It is so deep that it would be easy for us to invent a tradition that feeds that hunger with false claims of historical legitimacy. I don’t want a phony Celtic spirituality brought on by feelings of beauty and desire — wrapped in ignorance. After all, we move all the time. We don’t know our landscapes that well. And nature, it’s something we do on weekends. Because of my caution, I was being careful about jumping into Celtic spirituality . . . but then along came St. Brigid.
John Philip Newell introduced me to St. Brigid in his wonderful book on the roots of Celtic spirituality, Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul. He tells the story of Celtic Christianity through the lives of significant Celtic figures. St. Brigid is one of the very early figures. She is wonderfully historic, as well as wonderfully mythic. Historians think S did exist as an Abbess in Ireland when Christianity was new to Ireland. She died in c.525. Her Abby in Kildare was a joint Abby with separate facilities for men and women. She had primacy over the Abbott.
Brigid must have been a strong spiritual leader respected by all. Over time she acquired all kinds of stories about her adventures. These stories are myths that couldn’t possibly be factually true. But they have this way of telling a larger truth. Often Brigid represents women in a matter-of-fact way that honors them and their power.
She is a bridge figure between different states of being. Newell highlights four thresholds through the lens of Brigid: she is “the doorway between the pre-Christian and the Christian, the portal between the divine and the human, the relationship between humanity and the earth, and the liminal space between the womb of the universe and what is trying to come in to being.”
One story brought tears to my eyes, and I am not entirely sure why. St Brigid, who couldn’t possibly have been there – is credited with being Mary’s midwife when she gave birth to Jesus.
St. Brigid was a red-headed barmaid at the inn in Bethlehem where Mary, blond with red rosy lips, and Joseph, her husband, called in and asked for shelter. The inn was full, so Brigid sent them away but felt sorry enough that she gave them the inn’s last bannock loaf with a glass of water. The saint tells Mary and Joseph they can stay in the sheep bier. Later she checks in on them and finds Mary in labor. She helps Mary birth her baby, as any good Irish barmaid would! Brigid, meet Jesus! Jesus, meet Brigid!
In creating that story, the whole country of Ireland was dreaming a dream of two great traditions merging. Maybe that is why I was crying when I read it. People have these strong drives to be united, to be one. They were asking themselves, ‘how can we be ourselves (Celts) and yet embrace this new tradition (Christianity)?’. They united them by having the trusted saint Brigid be at the birth of Jesus. It didn’t matter that it was impossible!
The joining of Celtic and Christian traditions resulted in a spirituality infused with the nature mysticism of the Druids. It honored women and considered that they were equal spiritual beings to men. Jesus himself was regarded less as a holy victim sent to save us from our sins. He was an avatar of the sacred here among us and a beloved teacher. There is respect for the world and its creatures that shine through in this early form of Christianity.
As Christianity became more doctrinaire – the Celtic strand came under pressure. Nature mysticism, women’s spirituality, and Jesus’s human nature were no longer allowed. The Celtic elements had to go underground.
Now these elements are popping up again. St Brigid, always around, can help us pass from one state to another. I appreciate the effortless way she crosses the threshold from one tradition to another without worrying about the contradictions. She appears in the world with power and wisdom. She doesn’t let anything stop her; not time, not space, not theological fashions. We need her more than ever as we struggle to birth our world past the climate change crisis.
I think I will build her an altar, even though I am not a Christian. That may be an excellent way to start.
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Author’s note: I’ve been writing this blog for four months. I enjoy giving some flesh and bones to the feeling of natural religion. I have even liked the weekly deadlines because they are very motivating. However, I am going to loosen the deadline a bit. I will be sending out a post every two weeks instead of weekly. I want them to be high quality, and I need a little breathing room!
I love your blog and do look forward to each one. But now I am going to have to look up St. Bridgid.
Thank you Katie. I am struggling to find my place in uu, how does my spirit fit in? I just stumbled on your blog. I'd love to talk with you sometime.