The last few weeks have been a roller coaster of feeling small and how it affects us. So, today I want to talk about the different ways in which Brigid takes up space.
And, possibly more importantly, how we can learn from it!
The death of a son
I’ve spoken about Ruadhán’s death before on the blog. And there’s a whole course on the excerpt over in the school. So, I have a lot to say about this aspect of Brigid. But today, I’m going to talk about her taking up space.
Primarily, in the enemy camp of the Fomorians.
Seriously – Brig followed Ruadhán to his father’s presence in the Fomorian assembly.
But after the spear had been given to him, Rúadán turned and wounded Goibniu. He pulled out the spear and hurled it at Rúadán so that it went through him; and he died in his father’s presence in the Fomorian assembly. Bríg came and keened for her son. At first she shrieked, in the end she wept. Then for the first time weeping and shrieking were heard in Ireland. (Now she is the Bríg who invented a whistle for signalling at night.)
I mean, on the one hand, she was the wife of Bres (at one time anyway) and the mother of the dead child. So, we’re looking at someone who could be deemed to belong there.
But equally, she had fairly obvious strong ties to the Tuatha De Danann camp, potentially far stronger than a rotten marriage to a deposed king.
Was this a safe place for Brig?
Probably not. But she took up the space she needed. She keened. Mourned her son. And did what needed to be done.
Brigid taking up space – and food
OK, so the myriad of ways in which Brigid takes space and food throughout her hagiographies is vast.
She gives away butter – then makes sure the dairy provides what’s needed for the family anyway. She feeds an old hound from the meat meant for guests, and still manages to have enough for the guests. (Although in that case, the guests felt ashamed by her actions and decided to give their food to the poor in imitation of her actions)
Every store of food which she saw and served used to grow. She bettered the sheep: she tended the blind: she fed the poor.
Not to mention the time she gave away a valuable chain and her nuns came to her complaining they’d no money for food and clothes, when she came out with this zinger:
‘Ye are sinning,’ saith Brigit: ‘Go ye into the church : the place wherein I make prayer, there will ye find your chain.’ They went at Brigit’s word. But, though it had been given to the poor man, the virgins found their chain therein.
Blackmail always an option…
… in God’s name of course
Brigit went to Bishop Ibair that he may mark out her city for her. So they came thereafter to the place where Kildare is to-day. That was the season and the time that Ailill son of Dunlaing, with a hundred horse-loads of peeled rods, chanced to be going through the ground of Kildare. Two girls came from Brigit to ask for some of the rods, and they got a refusal. Forthwith all the horses were struck down under their loads against the ground. Stakes and wattles were taken from them, and they arose not until Ailill son of Dunlaing had offered unto Brigit those hundred horse-loads; and thereout was built Saint Brigit’s house in Kildare.
I mean, blackmail might not be quite the word here, but it’s certainly implied blackmail.
Sure what would the man be doing with that many rods anyway???
Standing up for justice
Now you might think that Brigid didn’t have much to do with justice, but she freed captives.
Brigit went into the province of Fir Ross to loosen a captive who was in manu with the King of Ross. Said Brigit: ‘Wilt thou set that captive free for me?’ The King replied: ‘Though thou shouldst give me the realm of the men of Breg, I would not give him to thee. But go not with a refusal,’ saith the King. ‘For one night thou shalt have the right to guard his life for him.’ Then Brigit appeared at the close of day to the captive and said to him: ‘When the chain shall be opened for thee repeat this hymn, Nunc populus, and turn to thy right hand and flee.’ Thus it is done, and the captive flees at the word of Brigit.
OK that’s one captive, but still…
rigit, and certain virgins with her, went to Bishop Mél, in Telcha Mide, to take the veil. Glad was he thereat. For humbleness Brigit staid, so that she might be the last to whom the veil should be given. A fiery pillar arose from her head to the ridgepole of the church. Bishop Mél asked: ‘What virgin is there?’ Answered MacCaille: ‘That is Brigit,’ saith he. ‘Come thou, O holy Brigit,’ saith Bishop Mél, ‘that the veil may be sained on thy head before other virgins.’
It came to pass then, through the grace of the Holy Ghost, that the form of ordaining a bishop was read over Brigit. MacCaille said that ‘The order of a bishop should not be (conferred) on a woman.’ Dixit Bishop Mél: ‘No power have I in this matter, inasmuch as by God hath been given unto her this honour beyond every woman.’ Hence, it is that the men of Ireland give the honour of bishop to Brigit’s successor.
Yup, she was ordained a bishop and hence the honour of a bishop and precedence was granted to Brigid’s successor – until 1169 when the then successor was raped by Dermot McMurrough’s troops and divested of her station. (And then threw in McMurrough’s niece as reverend mother who then in turn, gave up her precedence to take her “proper place” behind the men…)
Not to mention healing a leper and then re-infecting him because of his behaviour afterwards.
What can we learn from this?
Sometimes, we have to venture into discomfort to learn things. I’m not one that says every bad experience is a teaching moment – well ok, maybe I am, even if the teaching moment is that some people are assholes. But there are times when we, like Brigid, take up space in ways that just isn’t comfortable. Discomfort doesn’t mean it’s bad. It just means it’s not comfortable and not habitual.
Sometimes, taking up space makes us a target in ways we don’t like. That doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile or that we avoid doing it. Sometimes, you feel the fear and do it anyway. At other times, you look at the risks and decide something isn’t worth it.
But don’t take the smaller stance just by default. Because there isn’t a clear way to win then.
Brigid was born of a slave – according to the hagiographies. And her mother is completely unknown in the pre-Christian lore. Her husband was a bad king. Her child(ren) (depending on which lore you’re reading) was (were) killed. Justly or unjustly, depending on your point of view.
And yet she endures. She was ordained a bishop. She founded a monastic institution that resonates through the centuries to us. We hold her close as Poet, Smith and Healer.
Brigid took up, and still takes up, space. In Ireland and elsewhere.
If she can do it, so can you.
