The Poetry of Pilgrimage: Brigid of Kildare

Michael Mitton’s new book The Poetry of Pilgrimage highlights the Celtic saints and sites which have drawn pilgrims for centuries and celebrates them in poetry. In this second extract, Michael tells the story of St Brigid of Kildare.

27 October 2024

Only through poetry

Since 2012 Russ Parker and Michael Mitton have led annual pilgrimages to key Celtic Christian sites in Ireland, Wales, Scotland, the north of England and Cornwall. Both attest to ‘the remarkable works of grace that take place in our pilgrims on these travels’.

Early on in these pilgrimages, Michael tried to find a way of expressing something of this experience, and he found ‘the only way I could do this was through poetry’:

I am no expert in poetry, but I am part of that large group of people who have found it easier to express emotional and spiritual truth in poetry rather than prose. For me, poetry catches something of that thermal air current that lifts the soul in these sacred places.

When, with some diffidence, he shared his poems with the group, he was pleased to discover that what he had written resonated with the pilgrims’ experiences.

Glimpses of the eternal

As Russ Parker writes in his Foreword to the book:

Pilgrimage is more than a chance to get away from it all, a way to appreciate the beauty of our planet or a time to learn about saints we consider better than ourselves. Pilgrimages are the hunger journeys of our longing to encounter the living presence of God, and this is best done on holy ground. Holy ground are those locations where God has rubbed something of himself off on soil and rock. Where holy men and women, carried by the wild Spirit of God, gave others glimpses and encounters of the eternal. Such sites are places where the narrative of what was done there lives on to invite us into living in the fresh purposes of God.

Michael offers some suggestions for how to use the book:

The book is particularly suitable for those who are not able to join an organised group. However, some readers may wish to plan their own pilgrimages, and these pages may get them started… For other readers such travel will be impractical, and a journey of heart and mind will be needed. I would encourage you to read the poems prayerfully, to allow the Holy Spirit of Christ to take you on a journey of the imagination to a place which, though it may be in a far-off land with a story from a distant time, nonetheless, through the workings of the Spirit, can bring life to your soul in the here and now.

Here, to give a taste of the riches – and originality – of Michael’s new book is the story of  Brigid of Kildare.

Brigid of Kildare

Story

Brigid (whose name also appears as Brigit, Bridget and Bride) was born sometime in the middle of the fifth century and, along with Patrick, is the most famous saint of Ireland. She was greatly loved and admired from early times, so while stories about her abound, many are fictional.

However, among the likely historical facts are that she was the daughter of Dubhthach, the king of Leinster. As with Britain, Ireland was divided into several kingdoms at this time. Leinster (or Laigin) was the south-eastern kingdom. Brigid’s mother was Broicsech, who was a bondswoman of the king. Broicsech was a Christian, and her Christian faith made a deep impact on the young Brigid, who followed her faith and was baptised by Patrick.

Perhaps it was the humble origins of her mother that inspired Brigid to have a deep affection for the poor. From her earliest years, she was drawn to care for them when they came knocking on the king’s door for help. Such care infuriated her wealthy, regal father who tried to get rid of her from his home through marriage. The fiery Brigid avoided marriage, instead feeling called to the monastic life, and in time she founded the monastery of Kildare, which became a remarkable centre for mission.

Like Patrick, Brigid raised money to free many slaves who then became part of her community. She was the abbess of this monastery until her death in around 525. One of the great landmarks of this monastery was a fire that she lit at the heart of the community. Brigid desired that this fire should demonstrate the powerful light of Christ that had come into the world to give light to all people (John 1:9). Brigid insisted that only women tend this fire, and it is said that it remained alight for a thousand years until the dissolution of the monasteries under Henry VIII.

Location

Visitors today will find a small town at the centre of which is the cathedral. Next to the cathedral is one of the best of the many high towers that you find in Ireland. Brigid’s fire temple is marked out in the grounds of the cathedral by a low stone wall.

One of our first visits to this site was with a group of pilgrims from South Africa. Bishop Eric Pike, formerly bishop of Port Elizabeth and a good friend, was one of the pilgrims. When we gathered in the fire temple, he felt a disturbance in his spirit. Here, in this place that was such a celebration of the ministry of women, he felt a deep anguish and grief at the way men had too often put out the fire in the women who were eager to serve their Lord in ministry.

At his suggestion, the men of the group knelt before the women, seeking the forgiveness both of the Lord and of the women in the group for the way our gender had caused such terrible repression in the life of the church. The forgiveness offered by the women of our group, and their prayers for us, felt tremendously releasing and powerful. In subsequent visits to this site, we have followed the same practice, and each time it has felt deeply significant. I can’t help feeling that Brigid would have been delighted.

Brigid

Brigid,
leading lady, leading light and brightly lit leader.
You were fuelled by the Breath of God,
and the deep breath of a people inhaling the life of Christ.
Lit by compassion, you blessed your people
with the waters of life.
Confounding the powerful, you empowered the weak
and set free the enslaved.
Your flame was tended by women of faith,
and burned for a thousand years.
The fire of that faith still kindles the hearts
of those who seek the warmth of Christ.
Dear God, open the vents of heaven
that I may catch my breath at your wonders.
Fill me, that I may breathe upon the dimly burning wicks
and the fragile fires burning in the hearts
of your children in this beloved yet wounded world,
and let the compassion of Brigid
be as a fire in the temple of my soul.