February 1, 2007

Dear Drummers,

If you come to the drum this Friday, you’ll experience a Brigit extravaganza. My odd and wonderful friend Gabriel will be traveling across the great river accompanied by her odd and beautiful coterie of women drummer shamans to join our group. We will meet in the Cummins Room (our usual room). We’ll drum a little while in there, and then we’ll probably move up to the sanctuary where Gabriel and her goddessy cohort will lead us in a ceremony devoted to the Goddess Brigit.

Brigit is the Celtic Goddess, and this is her traditional time of year. It’s called Imbolc (pronounced IM-olk). Imbolc is often celebrated on February 2^nd.

Here I will voice my complaint: I get my shamanic undies in a bunch over the insistence that Imbolc, or Brigit’s day, happens at a certain day on the calendar. Brigit is celebrated as the goddess of springtime—the bringer of the warmth after winter—and this is marked by all sorts of springtime events like animals giving birth and coming into milk, by the ice on the ground melting and creating that song of the springtime trickle of running water toward the creeks and rivers. Brigit is sometimes said to be the crocuses rising triumphantly and radiantly up through the white snow. There is an old song about her that goes:

Early on Brigit’s morn

The serpent will come from the hole

I will not harm the serpent

Nor will the serpent harm me.

There’s a fair amount of shamanic theology buried in that little song.

But back to my shamanic undies: If we lived in the British Isles or in Europe where Brigit has been such a prominent figure for eons, these images might make sense in early February. In gardening terms, Ireland the UK are hardiness Zones 8 and 9—the same as Georgia here in the USA. Minnesota borders between Zone 3 and 4, so spring does not come here until perhaps two months later than in the UK. In early February we are really nowhere near that breaking point when winter turns to spring—the time traditionally attributed to Brigit. So, like the urban Christian Romans who scheduled Christmas on December 25^th, and Halloween on October 31, we too are a bit obsessed with man-made time when we insist on February 2 being Brigit’s Day. I would prefer it if we read the land and watched for the crocuses, and listened for the song of the trickle of melting ice.

Well, I feel better now. My undies are nice and loose.

A note about the names of God:

Sally McFague is a Christian theologian who famously restated the Christian trinity (Father-Son-Holy Spirit) as “Creator-Liberator-Sustainer.” She does this to move us away from the idea that we can “name” God at all, and of course, because the Father-Son-Ghost image has been so limiting in its maleness.

The Koran speaks of the “99 names of God”—names like al-Bātin (The Hidden), al-Musawwir (The Fashioner of Forms) al-Wahhāb (The Bestower), al-Mubdi' (The Producer, Originator, and Initiator of all) and al-Mu'id (The Reinstater Who Brings Back All).

These Arabic names for God could easily apply to Brigit. She is most often called “the goddess of healing, smith-craft (blacksmithing or metal-working) and poetry.” As intriguing as they are, these names too, are limiting. If I were writing the Celtic Koran, maybe I’d maybe name her The Warmer.

Healing, blacksmithing and poetry all involve warmth, or fire. For poets, that fire is called Imbas—“the fire in the head” in the Celtic world. I see Brigit as an embodiment of Imbas—spiritual warmth, spiritual fire, the fire that unleashes springtime on the earth.

Or maybe I’d call Brigit “The Loving Re-Arranger.” Healing, smith-craft and creative work all re-arrange elements from raw, disconnected or broken bits into a form that has love (that is, usefulness, beauty, alignment, or health).

She could be called “The Midwife”—The Christian world absorbed Brigit and she became the midwife at Christ’s birth. “The One Who Attends Your Many Births” could be a good name for her, or “The One Who Helps Bring God Into The World Through You.” 

I could re-name Brigit “The Awakener,” because of her associations with springtime, and with dawn. Or: “the melter of that which has been frozen in you.” Or: “the one who comes with a candle to tell the seeds to wake up” or if you wanted to unravel that one even more: “the one who breathes the kiss of dawn into the half-open, yearning mouths of the sleepers who are calling out in their dreams to be kissed by dawn.”

Well, I hope this gives you a picture of Brigit, who really is an astonishing presence, and has been extremely generous to me for so many years. It is this Presence who we invite into the room with us on Friday.

I look forward to seeing you this week at the Brigit Extravaganza.

--Jaime